A Suitable Wife
by ViolaBee
Summary: Mr. Bennet, faced with the likelihood of his untimely death, must rely on a long forgotten pact to save his family's future. Meanwhile, members of the Darcy-Fitzwilliam clan are enduring the censure of the ton after Georgiana Wickham nee Darcy is abandoned by her husband just weeks after their marriage. A bit dark at first, but I promise a HEA for our favorite couple.
1. Chapter 1

Mr. Bennet was a man without options. He had never meant to become the sort of father who used his children as chattel, selling them to the highest bidder on the marriage mart. He had always intended to allow his daughters to make love matches. However, the irksome indigestion he always had following dinner had become unbearable. Upon consulting the local doctor, he was diagnosed with ulcers and instructed to avoid spicy foods and stress. The good doctor gave him a rather ambiguous prognosis citing that some patients lived for decades with the disease, while others were stone dead in a few months.

At first, knowledge of his possibly immediate demise gave him no pause. After all, he was a composed man by nature, unlikely to engage in the sort of dramatics some men might succumb to upon hearing such news. He rarely took anything too seriously and therefore had very little stress. With a few instructions to the cook meals became blander and his stomach upset diminished considerably. Mr. Bennet began to believe he would live long enough to see all of his daughters settled with husbands they loved and respected.

And then Mr. Collins had arrived. Though a rich source of entertainment at first, the ridiculous little man reminded Mr. Bennet of his mortality. Worse still, through his attentions to his daughters he illustrated to Mr. Bennet all the dangers his own lackadaisical outlook on life had cause for them. Mr. Bennet realized now, because of his own failings, how vulnerable his daughters were. He should have made arrangements for them, should have saved more in his youth so that his daughters might not end up penniless in the hedgerows.

It had all been fun and games when Mr. Collins had invited himself into his home and made it quite clear he intended to marry one of his daughters. First his attentions had rested on Jane. This might have given Mr. Bennet some apprehension since Jane was so kindhearted she might be persuaded to accept the fool out of pity. Fortunately, Bingley had already taken her tender heart and so Mrs. Bennet was keen to point his attentions toward the other girls. Lizzy was to be his second victim. On her account Mr. Bennet had no worries. She was not the sort to suffer fools, nor would any material concerns influence her decisions.

When, however, Mr. Bingley suddenly removed himself from the neighborhood without making any promises of a swift return, things in the Bennet house became quite dark. Mrs. Bennet hounded Lizzy for her refusal of Mr. Collins, and though she would never show it to the world Lizzy began to regret her decision. True, she had no tender feelings for Mr. Collins, indeed she loathed the very sight of the man. And true, she did not fear for her own well-being, she knew she could make her living as a governess or companion if it came down to that. But she did worry about the security of her mama and younger sisters should her father go to his grave in the near future. When Jane had been on the cusp of marrying Bingley she had felt safe. Bingley was not the sort of man to let his mother-in-law and sisters-in-law starve. But now his pernicious sisters had spirited him away to London leaving Jane broken hearted. Lizzy began to feel her refusal of Mr. Collins might have been selfish.

Mr. Bennet witnessed the railing Lizzy endured and felt her pain. He could tell, even if his wife could not, that his favorite daughter agonized over her refusal. He wished she would not. The responsibilities that she was trying to take on were not hers to bear. He must be the one to find a secure future for his family, and he would even if it meant calling in a favor he had never intended to take.

It was just a week after Collins left, when Mrs. Bennet's badgering of Lizzy had reached its apex, that Mr. Bennet's stomach pains returned in full force this time accompanied by the vomiting of blood. This was very concerning to the generally carefree man. He had just taken a rare close look at the family finances and determined that by some miracle they were solvent, however there was no room for any excess in their budget and no assets which could be separated from the estate and saved for his wife and daughters. It was at this point that Mr. Bennet, a man who generally disliked personal correspondence, penned a letter to a man he had never met and prayed this Darcy would feel honor bound to fulfill the promises of his grandfather**.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Something must be done, Darcy!" Lord Matlock exclaimed as he tossed a newsletter, or more appropriately, a gossip rag, upon his nephew's desk.

Fitzwilliam Darcy did not even glance at the offending article, he already knew what it would say, "What would you have me do, Uncle?" he asked quietly, in a strained tone.

Though Darcy had spoken calmly, Lord Matlock could see the fury in his eyes which caused him to reevaluate his aggressive stance. He sighed loudly wondering how to word his request as not to incur Darcy's wrath. "I know you do not wish to hear this—."

"Then perhaps you'd best keep it to yourself!" Darcy interrupted.

"But I think we must consider what shall be done with Georgiana."

In response Darcy turned away, crossing the room to stare out the window. The debate of what to do with Georgiana had been going on amongst his relatives for some time and he had no wish to hear any more about it. Immediately after the elopement Aunt Eleanor, the Countess of Matlock, had decided that the best way to deal with the situation was for the entire family to hold their heads high and pretend as though nothing untoward had occurred. Though Lady Catherine de Bourgh had refused to acknowledge the match, the rest of the family begrudgingly welcomed Wickham into the fold with Lady Matlock going so far as to hold a ball in honor of their wedding.

Gossip had surrounded the match even then, of course. Given the unequal status between the couple and the extreme youth of the bride, gossip was unavoidable. But the marriage had occurred in late July just as the Season was winding down. Darcy had believed that soon everyone would leave town and by the time they returned in the spring there would be more interesting topics to chatter about.

But that was before Wickham had been given full control of Georgiana's dowry. Darcy had avoided turning it over to the scoundrel for as long as he legally could. He and Colonel Fitzwilliam had even considered demanding an annulment, as lack of guardian consent was grounds for such action. However, they had been fearful of what such a move might do to Georgiana's reputation.

Wickham chose to ignore his new wife after receiving control of her wealth, though he refused to allow her to return to her brother's home. He took a house in Mayfair and proceeded to go through Georgiana's dowry at an alarming rate. Tattersalls and an assortment of gaming hells saw a great deal of Wickham's new found wealth, as well as one much-pursued actress who he set up as his mistress.

Yet, the gossip was still not so horrid. Such display of vice in a young man was nearly expected, after all. Georgiana was pitied as a foolish girl and her brother criticized as a poor guardian, but the family name had not been totally blackened. It was not until Wickham started to incur debts that he did not repay, rode recklessly through Hyde Park with a light-skirt in his curricle, and reportedly ruined a girl of genteel birth, that the gossip began to turn on the Darcys. Georgiana returned Darcy House despite Wickham's orders to remain with him. In the stress of his sudden return to dire financial straits he had turned violent, at times seeming completely out of his senses.

He demanded more money from Darcy which was refused. Angered, Wickham set out rumors so terrible, so sordid, yet so precise in their detail that some influential people elected to credit them. Georgiana was now seen as a wanton brat, incapable of self-control. Her brother became a cold-hearted abuser with immoral and unnatural sexual proclivities. These outrageous claims paled in comparison to what was said about their late parents. During this time, Lady Catherine and even Lord Matlock had urged Darcy to return Georgiana to her husband (as by law he had right to her) then to cut off all contact with the couple. Darcy had, of course, refused.

By the end of September, Darcy and Georgiana had removed to Derbyshire and Wickham had disappeared completely after being challenged to a duel by a cuckolded husband. But the damage was already done. All of Darcy's acquaintance had given him the cut direct excepting Bingley, though Caroline and the Hursts had certainly urged him to avoid his friend. The party Lady Matlock hosted every year at the earl's country estate, which was usually a most sought after invitation, had to be canceled for lack of attendants.

Even then, all hope of recovery had not been lost. Only the extremely malicious or terribly foolish would continue to believe such rumors about one of the most unimpeachable families in England, especially from the mouth of such a desperate man. The Darcys and Fitzwilliams were prepared to ride out the storm. Until now.

Sensing his nephew was lost in thought, Lord Matlock spoke again, "You should read the article, Fitzwilliam. You need to know what is being said now and I need to know if there is any truth to it."

The interest in Georgiana had been too great. Despite absconding to Pemberley the gossip remained and papers still discussed her errors. Just last week some vulture masquerading as a writer had come to Lambton looking for associates of the Darcy family, specifically servants, offering coin for interesting tidbits. The servants had proved too loyal, members of the local gentry, however, had not. Somehow someone had found out about Georgiana's delicate condition.

"She is with child," Darcy acknowledged without turning to face his uncle.

Lord Matlock sighed loudly once more, "And when will this child be born?"

Darcy turned quickly and heavily fell into his chair. After perusing the article a moment he answered, "For once the papers have the right of it. The doctor says she will give birth in March, though it could be as early as late February."

"Damn it!" The earl exclaimed, "Will there be no end to this?"

Darcy remained silent.

"You must send her away now. Back to Wickham, if he can be found. And then you must end your association with her. We all must."

"I fail to understand why you would push for such measures. They are married. The child will be legitimate no matter when it was conceived. They can hardly be the first couple to anticipate their vows."

Lord Matlock slammed his fists upon Darcy's desk in frustration, "If they had married under normal circumstances, if he had behaved with some shred of decorum, if he had not known such intimate facts concerning your family this indiscretion might have been ignored. But this will only solidify opinions of Georgiana and if we are not careful she will drag us all down with her."

Darcy stood. Staring menacingly down at his uncle he asked, "You wish me to cut the acquaintance of my sister. Never to acknowledge the existence of my dearest relative because Society has declared her irredeemable?"

"Yes," Lord Matlock answered simply.

"I refuse. I have no use for Society if it demands this of me."

Lord Matlock released a false laugh, "You are a man of honor and duty. The whims and opinions of Society dictate your life. Georgiana's little adventure has become more than just a piece of drawing room gossip for ladies to titter about, it has become fodder for my political enemies in Parliament. How can I be respected when I allow such licentiousness go unchecked in my own family? How can Richard ever hope to make the sort of match he needs under these circumstances?"

The room was silent for a moment as Darcy fought to keep his rage in check. Finally he spoke,

"You shall have to cut us both then, Uncle. I have no intention of abandoning my sister especially to the likes of Wickham."

"Are you truly willing to give up the work of generations for the sake of sentimentality?"

Almost in a whisper Darcy replied, "She is my sister."

The earl shook his head at his nephew's stubbornness, "You need to cast her off. Get this scandal behind you so you can find a suitable wife."

"Good Lord, why would I marry now?"

"Because Wickham is essentially your heir at the moment!"

"I changed my will directly when I found out Georgiana had married Wickham. Richard stands to inherit everything should I die."

"Everything except Pemberley."

Darcy was about to argue when the truth of his uncle's words crashed over him. In the anxiety of the last few months he had forgotten a terrible fact which he had been unaware of prior to changing his will. It would seem that his great-grandfather had stipulated that Pemberley could only be inherited by a person of Darcy heritage. While Fitzwilliam Darcy had been free to allocate all his other assets to his cousin Richard, Pemberley must go to Georgiana, the only other living Darcy. By law all that Georgiana owned must be immediately ceded to her husband, therefore Wickham stood to inherit Pemberley should Darcy meet his death.

"I have no intention of dying anytime soon," Darcy said calmly after a moment.

"Are you sure Wickham has no intention of helping you to an early grave?" Lord Matlock quipped.

Before all of this Darcy would have never thought Wickham capable of murder, even after all the debauchery he had gotten up to in his younger years. Now he was less certain. He did not, however, admit this uncertainty to Lord Matlock, "Georgiana will stay at Pemberley. In a few years this unpleasantness will be forgotten, I will marry and have an heir. All will be well."

"I hope that it may be. But I cannot risk my reputation on hope. If you will not hear reason I am done with you, nephew. I am sorry," Lord Matlock firmly said extending his hand to Darcy.

Darcy debated taking it, his internal rage wanted him to push the older man from the room, but his better senses told him he ought not part from his relative in animosity. His uncle was doing what he thought was best for his family, after all. The two men shook hands and then Lord Matlock strode from the room.

* * *

In the following weeks worries of Wickham as heir to Pemberley would once again be replaced by more pressing concerns. Georgiana had expressed an interest in informing Wickham about the upcoming birth of his first (legitimate) child. She had been kept blissfully unaware of the gossip that was still circulating about her in the papers, thus she had no idea that Wickham most likely already knew of her condition. Darcy had hoped that Wickham's behavior in town had ended any admiration Georgiana had felt for him, now he worried that her heart still belonged to that villain.

Darcy was also terribly concerned that, Georgiana, like their mother, would die as a result of giving birth. Though their mother had not died in childbed she had never regained her strength after Georgiana's birth. Georgiana was of a similar constitution as Anne Darcy and the pregnancy was already taking its toll on her.

Oddly, Georgiana seemed _pleased_ about her condition. While Darcy would never wish for her to be unhappy, he certainly could find no joy in the situation. He saw her swelling abdomen as evidence of Wickham's evil, of his own failings, and of Georgiana's lost innocence. He could not yet ponder the entrance of his niece or nephew into the world with any emotion beyond fear. Most days, despite the harsh December weather, he would take long rides to avoid uncomfortable interactions with his sister.

It was on one such ride that an incident occurred which brought the question of inheritance to the forefront of his mind. Darcy had always considered himself an excellent horseman, never once having lost his seat. On this day, however, he had let his mind wander when he really should not have. Snow had obscured the terrain leaving his horse to navigate for itself in unsure footing. Near a hilltop the horse lost its footing nearly rolling over its rider as it fell down the hill.

Darcy, by some miracle, had not been injured as he was able to free himself from the animal before it crushed him. Yet he was deeply affected by the accident. The reality of his mortality could be denied no longer. Though death at such a young age seemed unlikely, it was still possible. And the effects of his death without a proper heir were unthinkable. If granted control of Pemberley, Wickham would ruin the estate and all the tenants and servants who depended upon it would be left with nothing. All that generations of Darcys had worked for would be lost.

The solution was simple. Yet Darcy did not believe there was a respectable, gently bred female in all of England who would consent to marry him. At least not one who would not insist he cast off his sister.

That same day, as if Providence was watching over him, a letter from a certain Mr. Thomas Bennet arrived. Darcy had wondered at the connection at first. He knew he had heard the name before but could not place it. Upon reading the missive he was instantly reminded of a conversation he had with his father right before his death. His father had told him that Lady Catherine was not the only one who might make claims of promised matrimony to a daughter.

Long ago his grandfather, Thomas Darcy, had apparently been close friends with a George Bennet. He had even credited the man with saving his life though he had never related the particulars of this event to his son. To bring the two families closer together and to presumably repay George Bennet for the saving of his life, Thomas Darcy had promised his only son, George Darcy, in marriage to George Bennet's only daughter, Grace. Sadly, Grace Bennet succumbed to a fever before reaching adulthood and the marriage pact was never fulfilled.

George Darcy had told his son that he did not expect him to fulfill any imagined promises to Lady Catherine or the Bennets. He wished for his son to select a wife that would both suit him and uphold the Darcy family honor. Any daughter of Thomas Bennet could not do that, he had warned. Curious about the man whose father had been so important to his own, George Darcy had checked up on Thomas Bennet. He had always known that the Bennets were not as wealthy as the Darcys but he had not expected to find the estate so ill-managed. The connections of the woman Mr. Bennet had married were not to be considered and their union had not produced a much-needed heir after five daughters. Needless to say George Darcy chose not to renew the Darcy connection to the Bennets and hoped it would be forgotten in the next generation.

Apparently the connection was not forgotten. Thomas Bennet was clearly desperate, insisting that if Darcy was a man of honor he would uphold the promises of his grandfather. To fulfill that ancient pact he proposed that Darcy marry his eldest daughter immediately. The man went as far as to say that if his daughters ended up begging in the streets it would rest on Darcy's conscience! Though the claim upon his honor was ridiculous, Darcy found himself considering the proposal. Mr. Bennet was in such a difficult position he was unlikely to demand that Darcy cut acquaintance with his sister. This might prove to be the only way he could speedily obtain a respectable bride.

Grabbing paper and ink Darcy hastily penned a reply requesting an audience with Mr. Bennet in a fortnight.


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy arrived in London on the first of the year. He planned to take a week to settle his affairs before venturing to Hertfordshire to meet with his potential bride. At this point he required very little in a wife. Gentle breeding and a bit of sense, youth and vitality enough to bear children, and a willingness to deal with the infamy of becoming a Darcy, would suffice.

Having concluded his business early, he decided to call on Bingley. He made his call a bit before noon, a bit earlier than was the fashion, but he had supposed that he was less likely to be noticed by any nosy neighbors at such an hour. If any neighbor noticed, Darcy was quite unaware, he was, however, made painfully cognizant of the notice of Caroline Bingley.

Upon arrival Darcy was led to the library to wait while Bingley was informed of his presence. He spent a few minutes wandering about the shelves disinterestedly, thinking about his upcoming meeting with Mr. Bennet. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sickeningly sweet sound of Caroline berating her brother.

"Charles, dear, you are really too good, no one could deserve your loyalty."

"There you are wrong. Darcy has always been—."

But he was cut off by Caroline who now spoke in a tone a little harsher and higher, "And I am afraid your loyalty will do you, indeed, all of us a disservice."

Darcy crossed the room and stood by the entryway to better hear the speakers. He had never been one to over-listen at doors but he was interested to know how fully Caroline's opinion of him had been altered.

"Caroline," Bingley said in a surprisingly firm tone, "I will not have this argument again. Darcy is my friend and he will remain my friend."

"But to allow him to call here! To be in our house!"

"My house—," Bingley corrected.

"Someone might have seen him enter through the front door!"

"Goodness, did you want him to use the servants' entrance? Or perhaps climb through a window?"

"Now you are being ridiculous—."

"I rather thought that was you."

"But the scandal—" Caroline exclaimed, but Bingley would not allow her to continue her outrage.

"This discussion is over, if you will not be civil to Darcy you can be off, I believe you had some calls to make." Darcy could hardly believe his ears, he had not thought Bingley capable of delivering such a set down, especially to his own sister.

Bingley swung open the library door to find his friend directly in front of the entry way looking a bit sheepish. Quickly regaining his composure, Darcy bowed to Caroline who was still standing behind her brother quite stunned.

"Good morning, Miss Bingley," Darcy greeted, the very example of politeness.

Caroline wordlessly turned on her heel and stomped off in a not at all lady like fashion.

"It seems I have lost her admiration," Darcy declared, all seriousness excluding a glint of humor in his eyes.

Bingley sighed, "I must apologize—."

"No, you really mustn't. Your sister is right you are too good. I should not have risked your reputation by calling here."

Bingley looked ready to argue but Darcy held up his hand to silence him, "How are you?"

Bingley spoke for a while about his life in town, about the parties and balls he had attended, about the new acquaintances he had been happy to make and the acquaintances his sisters had forced upon him.

"Caroline and Louisa, wish me to form an attachment with their friend Miss Ashton, but I must admit I cannot abide her."

Darcy gave his friend a questioning look, the lady must be intolerable indeed if Bingley took exception to her.

"It is not so much Miss Ashton herself that causes disgust, it is the very idea of aligning myself with any lady when my heart is set on another."

Bingley had proclaimed himself in love many times, but Darcy noticed something different about Bingley this time, resolve perhaps.

"I know I have said it before, but I believe it to be true this time. I have met an angel and she has stolen my heart," Ah, this was the Bingley Darcy knew, a hopeless sap.

"Am I to wish you joy?" Darcy asked sardonically.

Bingley's face fell at the question, "No," was all the answer he provided.

Darcy stared at his friend a moment wondering if the subject was to be dropped. When the silence continued he asked, "You were in Hertfordshire, I believe? How did you find the country?"

Bingley brightened, "I enjoyed it exceedingly. Never in my life have I been so warmly welcomed by my neighbors. I had a splendid time."

"It is a wonder you left."

"Yes . . .well, Caroline and Louisa were desperate for Town."

Darcy made a non-committal grunt in reply, encouraging Bingley to continue, "They did not like the society . . .specifically the attentions I was paying to a certain young lady."

"Indeed?" It was as Darcy had expected, Bingley's sisters would certainly object to Charles aligning himself with a country nobody.

"Yes. My sisters convinced me that the lady was indifferent to me, only interested in my wealth. But I have come to feel that I would not even care if she were indifferent if she would consent to be my wife."

Silence settled upon them once again. Darcy was not used to Bingley looking so forlorn.

"Do you think I made a mistake?"

"I cannot know if it was a mistake, Bingley. I do not think you should allow your sisters to dictate who you marry. And yet you cannot marry without consideration for them."

Bingley gave him a look that suggested he had expected better advice from him.

"Weigh the options and determine what you must do for yourself."

Bingley sighed. He knew that his friend was right, of course, but it would be so much easier to have someone else make the decision for him.

They talked a little more on pleasanter topics before Darcy declared he had best not challenge propriety by making too long of a call. He did not tell Bingley of his own plans to visit Hertfordshire. Darcy had no desire to dwell on his troubles and, to be honest, he was a bit embarrassed about having to essentially purchase a bride.

* * *

Darcy arrived at Longbourn later than he had expected. The hour was far too late to visit, especially as a stranger, yet he had no desire to go back to the nearby village in search of an inn. He approached the house and knocked on the door. After speaking to the housekeeper, who looked none too impressed with him, he was led to Mr. Bennet's study.

Mr. Bennet was just as his letters had indicated he would be. A gray-haired gentleman with worn, slightly rumpled clothes that suggested a bit of carelessness, a mouth that twitched at the corners as if always on the edge of laughing, and an overall teasing demeanor. Darcy got the distinct feeling Mr. Bennet was assessing him and finding him wanting, but when the older man finally spoke it was not words of disapproval.

"You have come then . . .good. I do not know what I would have done if you had not," Mr. Bennet spoke calmly, his expression hinting at humor despite the drama of his words.

Darcy stood silently, he supposed he ought to say something, ask about Mr. Bennet's health, perhaps? But he could see that the man suffered and having never been one to waste time in idle conversation, he chose to wait for the other man to continue.

Mr. Bennet gestured to the chair across from him and Darcy sat. Once his guest was settled he began, "My eldest daughter is currently in town, but I will recall her. Her mother sent her on a fool's errand." When the Gardiners had suggested Jane return with them after Christmas he had tried to protest, but as he had no assurance at that time that Darcy would come he had allowed her to go. Mrs. Bennet would never have let him hear the end of it if he had not.

Darcy raised his brow in question. He had hoped to meet the young lady he was supposed to wed.

"Jane has been jilted by a young man who recently let a house in the neighborhood. He seemed rather keen but I believe his sisters objected to the connection, rather hypocritical considering I am told their wealth has been procured in trade," there was vehemence in his voice that would have surprised his daughters. Though Mr. Bennet often seemed an uninterested parent, he truly cared for the happiness of his daughters and knew that despite Jane's serene countenance, she had been greatly injured by Bingley's abrupt departure.

"She has followed him to town," he continued, "But I believe it will come to nothing, besides I am not entirely sure he deserves her. I hope that you may. She is the eldest and probably the best suited of my daughters for this sort of . . .arrangement," Mr. Bennet looked ashamed, feeling as if he was describing livestock for sale rather than his eldest child, yet he pressed on, "She is a sensible girl, though not as clever as my Lizzy, but very intelligent. She can speak prettily on all the subjects which fashionable ladies are expected to discuss, sometimes she even has interesting opinions on useful subjects. Her temperament is much like yours, I believe, she is somewhat reserved, though well-liked in company, she has many friends. You may say I am biased but I am often told all of my daughters are great beauties, excepting Mary, poor child, but Jane is certainly the most remarked upon," Mr. Bennet paused for a moment, determining if he had covered all the important points, "So yes, she is the most suitable. She is soft-hearted and very like a second mother to the younger girls, she would want to be the one to become a sacrifice on the altar of matrimony."

Darcy nodded in reply to Mr. Bennet's monologue though he had barely been listening, as soon as Mr. Bennet had mentioned Jane's heartbreak he knew that she was the young lady Bingley had been mooning over. Mr. Bennet's eldest daughter, despite her apparent suitableness, certainly would not do. Even if Bingley had no intention of ever declaring himself, Darcy could not marry the woman his friend proclaimed to love.

"Was Charles Bingley the man who jilted your daughter?"

Mr. Bennet nodded his affirmation with much distress. A connection between Darcy and Bingley would certainly threaten the proposed union.

Darcy looked grim, "Bingley is my closest friend . . .well, only friend who has not dropped me following my sister's scandal."

"I am glad to know the man has some shred of loyalty," Mr. Bennet quipped, yet he was afraid that the salvation of his family might be slipping away. Surely Darcy would not consent to connect himself to a family that his friend, whose situation in life was considerably less impressive, had deemed inappropriate.

Darcy was rankled at the insult to his friend but said nothing, understanding Mr. Bennet's position as well has his friend's flighty nature and proclivity for being swayed by his snobbish sisters. Before disgrace had stained his family name he might have been inclined to agree with Bingley's sisters. The Bennets were not well-off. The estate was small and in a state of disrepair. The young ladies had meager dowries and no important connections to boast. Mr. Bennet was a gentleman, but as Darcy understood it, his wife was of low origin.

And yet, Darcy did not know what other choices he had. He could no longer hope to gain a wife of the caliber that had been expected by his family. In the wake of Georgiana's downfall there had been vultures of course. Prominent, even titled gentlemen who had fallen into difficult financial straits offered up their pedigreed daughters in exchange for tremendous sums of money that varied with the assumed importance of the family and the beauty of the young lady in question. Money was not the issue for Darcy, he remained without a wife because of one stipulation that all these potential fathers-in-law had made. All had demanded that he cast-off his fallen sister, never to even acknowledge her existence again. This he would never consider.

"What of your second eldest?"

Mr. Bennet did not know how to feel after Darcy's question. He should be glad that the gentleman remained interested in uniting their families. Yet he did not wish Darcy's designs to fall upon Lizzy. On a selfish level Mr. Bennet wanted his favorite daughter near him in his remaining days. But he also feared an arranged marriage might drown her spark. Logically, Mr. Bennet knew that if Jane would not do, Elizabeth would have to be Darcy's bride, as the other girls were too young and silly, yet emotionally he could not allow it.

He shook his head gravely, "Lizzy will not do. She is too independent, she would be too difficult to rein in . . .not that she is wild, of course. She is just . . .Lizzy needs to marry a man that could equal her vivacity and wit. I fear she will never find someone worthy of her." Realizing that he sounded too complimentary Mr. Bennet added, "Lizzy would never make a proper Society wife, she enjoys laughing at the folly of polite society too much to live her life within its rigid boundaries."

Darcy could see that Mr. Bennet held his second daughter in great esteem and was clearly reluctant to give her away to an unworthy stranger, almost to goad the man he said, "I find I have less and less use for Society myself."

Mr. Bennet visibly baulked. He wanted to get them off the subject of Elizabeth, but he could hardly offer Darcy Mary. Worse, after a nearly imperceptible knock, Elizabeth entered the study uninvited.

"Lizzy, dear," her father said with trepidation.

She was pale but her countenance fierce, "Papa," her voice cracked as she spoke making her sound on the verge of tears but her father could tell it was anger, not sadness, that prompted this uncharacteristic interruption.

Darcy shifted to view the figure in the doorway yet she took no notice of him, her sights trained on her father. She was dressed for bed, her housecoat fortunately keeping her from being completely indecent. Her dark, luscious auburn hair hung freely down her back with a few wisps framing her lovely face. Her jaw was set in barely concealed rage, her lips in a pout, and her beautiful eyes spoke of danger. Darcy thought Jane Bennet would have to be a veritable Venus for her beauty to overshadow that of Elizabeth.

She glared at her father as if awaiting an explanation, when none was provided she went on, "Am I to understand that you intended to marry off Jane to some previously unheard of acquaintance?" It surprised Elizabeth to hear herself make such a ridiculous accusation in such an inappropriate manner. Indeed, she would have never thought her father capable of anything of the sort. However, recently he had been behaving very oddly and with the arrival of the mysterious gentleman and the snippets of conversation Mrs. Bennet had heard through the door it became clear to Elizabeth that something was horribly amiss.

Mr. Bennet paled, how could he ever explain this situation to his favorite daughter? It was difficult enough to tell his failures to a stranger, to let Elizabeth know how low he had sunk was inconceivable.

His silence spoke volumes, he grasp for some believable lie but nothing came to his lips. The father gave his daughter a look of wide-eyed defeat. She gasped.

Elizabeth approached Mr. Bennet, who Darcy feared might breakdown in tears. He averted his eyes from the scene, feeling awkward to be witness to this private family moment. His gaze fell on the daughter once more, she stood beside him now still seemingly unaware of his presence. Though her eyes were glassy and her bottom lip quivered she did not weep.

"Papa, are you dying?" she asked in a whisper, knowing the answer. It would have to be something truly horrible for him to even consider such an arrangement.

For an instant Mr. Bennet lost control of his countenance and began to weep. Elizabeth rushed to comfort him dissolving into sobs herself. Mr. Bennet held up one hand to stay her and another to shield his eyes. After several uncomfortable moments he regained his composure and took her hands in his own.

"No need for such theatrics at present. All my worries may be for nothing, you know doctors have the tendency to embellish," this was articulated with a smile that did not reach his eyes and answered with a tearful nod from his daughter.

Elizabeth's tender gaze faded and her former fierceness return, "No matter the circumstances you cannot contemplate sacrificing Jane for the sake of her sisters' comforts."

Her father bristled, "No one has suggested sacrificing Jane for any cause. Sacrifice, indeed! I wonder where you have gotten your ideas of matrimony." Of course he knew where she had gotten such ideas, she was daily witness to the dreadful union of her ill-matched parents.

"She is the sweetest creature, if you ask her she will do anything for her family. But pray, do not ask. She would suffer in silence and I fear any arranged match will lead her to suffering. She loves Mr. Bingley, and I do not think her likely to forget him." Elizabeth gasped for air trying to rein in her emotions, "Please Papa, there must be another option. If it comes to it we can find ways to support ourselves."

"You and Jane, perhaps. But your mother—your younger sisters?"

In regards to this point Lizzy had to admit defeat, "I will find some way," she said weakly, "Oh, I should have accepted Mr. Collins," she berated herself.

Mr. Bennet slammed his fist against the desk making Darcy and Lizzy jump, "I would never see you aligned with a man such as him! This is my fault Lizzy, you must not take it upon yourself." Even as he said this he knew that his errors would end up the burdens of his favorite daughter.

"Promise me you will not ask Jane to marry a man she does not know, that you will not ask this of _any_ of my sisters." Her voice was clear and full of fervor, her beautiful eyes made brighter by passion and fear.

_Yes,_ Mr. Bennet thought sadly, _I can make that promise._ It was clear to him now that Lizzy was the only one of his daughters with the strength required for what he must ask of her.

The shouts of Mrs. Bennet interrupted their discussion.

"Lizzy . . .Lizzy, oh, where is that infernal child?"

"Go to your mother, Elizabeth."

"Promise me," she urged.

"I promise."

This seemed to satisfy her. She quickly embraced her father, "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too. Now go. Her screams could wake the dead—or send me to an early grave."

Elizabeth gave him a look that said she found his wit in poor taste. Then she sent a disapproving glare Darcy's way before hastening out of the room. Darcy was shocked to take her notice as she had seemingly forgotten his presence all this time.

Silence permeated the room for some time after her exit. Then there was an eruption of sound from upstairs. In which Mrs. Bennet scolded Lizzy for some missing lace.

"Ah, the serenity of domestic life." Mr. Bennet jibed as if all the previous serious discussions had never occurred.

"Who is Mr. Collins?" Darcy asked now that the quiet was broken.

"The most ignorant and pompous clergyman in all of England and unfortunately my heir. The estate is entailed, he is a distant cousin. I am very thankful Lizzy had the sense to refuse him."

"How old is Miss Elizabeth?" He did not desire an overly young bride, he wanted a woman who would understand the seriousness of marriage and know her own mind well enough to make an informed answer to his proposal.

"Lizzy is twenty."

Elizabeth would suit. She was clearly perceptive, intelligent, well-spoken. Not overly concerned with keeping up appearances. Beautiful, rarely had he seen such a lovely woman. Especially one with such vivacious eyes, whose brilliance was brought out further by her fearsome protection of her sister. Darcy was most impressed by the strength of character the lady had displayed and wished for such a role model for his sister.

"I want Miss Elizabeth," he said surprising himself and Mr. Bennet. It was a most impolitic statement, sounding rather like he thought of her as some commodity for purchase. Mr. Bennet who had up to this point been growing rather fond of the young man scowled .

Darcy could see Mr. Bennet had taken offense at having his favorite daughter spoken of in such a manner. He tried to cover, "Forgive me, I mean to say that she will make a suitable wife. And she seems perfectly willing to, as you put it, sacrifice herself on the altar of matrimony."

Mr. Bennet knew that if Lizzy could regret not marrying Collins as ridiculous as he is, she would certainly be willing to marry the gentleman sitting before him.

"If she accepts you, I will make no objections. A generous settlement is expected of course. There should be a significant sum set aside, of course, should you meet some early demise."

"I shall have twenty thousand pounds and my estate in Scotland put directly in her name in case I die before an heir is produced. She should be able to live comfortably there. If we have a son . . .or even a daughter before I perish, your daughter of course would live at Pemberley until the child came of age then she would retire to the dower house, or wherever she would wish to live, as twenty thousand is quite a sum I can't imagine she would want for anything."

Mr. Bennet nodded his approval. Twenty thousand was quite a sum for a settlement especially on the daughter of some insignificant gentlemen from an estate of little value. He thought Darcy must see the value of his daughter. In truth, Darcy had thought of the settlement before he had even come to the residence. He had been saving and making good investments for some time in the knowledge that he would be losing Georgiana's dowry. Fortunately, his saving had beyond paid off leaving him with quite a bit of money to leverage. He had decided on twenty thousand before even seeing Elizabeth (though now having seen her was quite certain she equal to it). He wanted any wife of his to be well provided for should something terrible occur. He took his role as head of the family very seriously, and though he had failed once, he would not do so again.

"Though it should have been my responsibility I must ask that you look after my wife and remaining daughters as well."

Darcy thought smugly that it certainly should have been Mr. Bennet's responsibility. Then he remembered his own failures which made him more generous.

"Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth's sisters will be my family it therefore shall be my responsibility to ensure their comfort and happiness. Upon your death sir—,"Darcy paused with a look of discomfort. Mr. Bennet waved him on, he was not offended by talk of his demise, "Mrs. Bennet and the Miss Bennets might find residence in the dower house as it is unoccupied or perhaps the house in town if they prefer, I will provide five hundred pounds a year for their support."

"Five hundred pounds and use of one of your residences is more generosity then I am sure I could have hoped for. More than any young man has probably ever agreed to do for his mother-in-law. However, you must be warned, you will not want my wife and younger daughters near you in Derbyshire nor will you want to be associated with anything they might do in Town."

Just at that moment, as if to provide evidence to Mr. Bennet's argument, an inhuman squeal came from above stairs presumably made by Mrs. Bennet.

"Indeed, I have a house in Bath as well."

"Bath, wonderful— the distance will certainly extend your life. Mind you must keep a firm hand about the finances. Don't let that woman needle anything more than promised out of, you not even once. If you do it once you shall be taken in forever."

Darcy had no doubt he was speaking of Mrs. Bennet not Elizabeth. On that matter he had no intention of giving her more than the five hundred per year. That was certainly enough for five women (and surely some of the sisters would marry) who had a living situation provided.

"Are you sure you can truly abide by such a settlement? Elizabeth's dowry is practically nonexistent." Mr. Bennet asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, my attorney has already drawn up the agreements. They will be delivered to you by next week." Darcy understood he was being surprisingly generous, even for a man with a stained family name,"There is only one thing I ask—my sister shall remain at Pemberley—indefinitely. She might choose not to be as active in society as she might have been but I will certainly not hide her away. I realize that my refusal to throw her off will only continue the scandal. Since news had reached London the Darcy name has been damaged by a great deal of gossip, some of it with no foundation in reality. No doubt the negativity which is circulating about my family will extend to my new wife. Though I am sure it will quiet down when some new scandal arises, some memory of my sister's transgression may even affect our children. But it must be endured. I cannot disown my sister. Miss Elizabeth must accept that if she will be my bride."

"As I have said, Elizabeth is not one to bend to the demands of society. She is very protective of her own sisters as silly as some of them may be, no doubt your dedication to your sister will gain you her respect."

"So have I your permission to make Miss Elizabeth an offer?"

Mr. Bennet begrudgingly replied in the affirmative.


	4. Chapter 4

Though Mr. Bennet thought he would have trouble sleeping that night as he had just given away his favorite daughter to a man he had only known a few hours, he did not. He fell straight into the most blissful sleep he had had in months.

Elizabeth did not find her rest so easily. She knew something had been agreed upon between the two men as they had stayed in their confinement for another hour after she had left and her father was not one for meaningless conversation with strangers. It made her angry that her father would bargain with the future of his children. But her rage was quickly quelled by the thought that her father might not have much longer to live. She had suspected something was wrong for some time. Now to have her suspicions confirmed all she wanted to do was cry, yet she could not. She was too worried about what her father might have arranged to even manage a sob. The reality of their desperate situation had been obvious to her, yet she, like her father, had always found ways to joke about it.

She wished Jane was here, but then of course if Jane was here she would have readily agreed to be married off for the sake of the family, only adding to Elizabeth's worries. Her father had promised he would not ask any of her sisters to marry this mysterious man. While he might be remiss about some things he had never broken a promise to her. But then what else could he have bargained with? Mama had said he was an old family friend, perhaps he had been persuaded to help them out of the goodness of his heart? Suddenly, Elizabeth realized she had been overlooking an important fact. Her papa had only promised not to ask this of her sisters.

The realization startled her. Did he really mean to give her away to this man without even consulting her feelings? No, of course, he would give her a choice. Not that there was any actual choice at all. If this man could provide security for her mother and sisters, she must accept him.

_Well_, she thought, _he is handsome at least_. She laughed at herself for such a silly consideration. Oh, if only she could be as naive as Lydia and Kitty, then she might welcome the idea of such a match. But she was sensible. Though she may not know much about men, she knew something of the world. This was a world where a husband had near complete control of his wife. What if this man misused such power? What if he was a monster?

She consoled herself with the knowledge that her father loved her dearly and would not allow this man near her if he thought him to be dangerous. But then, how could he truly know anything about the stranger? Elizabeth understood there was some long-ago family connection, but the man was relatively young so her father could not have known him personally. Then there was the alarming fact that he was willing to enter into an arranged match at all, especially one that could not be to his advantage. To be of any use to her family he must be somewhat wealthy, yet why would a wealthy man, if he was at all respectable, have to procure a wife in such an unorthodox manner?

Lizzy battled with these questions most of the night getting very little sleep. When a hint of sunlight brushed the curtains enveloping her room in a rosy glow she shot out of bed. Perhaps, a long walk before breakfast would settle her nerves. She was resolute in her decision, she would marry him. Fear, however, remained her primary emotion.

The walk did not clear her mind as she had hoped. She walked hard and fast, wandering far from Longbourn getting more and more enraged with each step she took. How could her father have put her in such a position? He was her favorite parent, but she was conscious of his faults. _He_ had managed the estate poorly, _he_ had neglected his duties, and now _she_ must pay for his deficiencies. Then this strange, presuming gentleman had arrived at their home demanding a bride. And she must marry him and count herself fortunate, because he had condescended to save her family. It was all so terribly unfair.

Finally, taxed by the vigorous pace she had set and even more so by the intensity of her emotions she sat down upon the snow covered grass unconcerned of what it might do to her dress. _Now_, she thought, _the tears will come_. But they did not. Instead, she found herself laughing at the absurdity of it all. Of course it was unfair, life very often was. But there was nothing to be gained from wallowing in self-pity, it was far better to find humor, especially when there was little else she could do.

She stood, dusting off her dress, amusing herself by thinking of the scold her mother would give her when she saw the stains, then began her journey home. Just before she reached the house she caught sight of the mysterious gentleman. He was facing east looking off towards the horizon. The sun had not yet reached its full glory, it now cast an intense coquelicot flush across the snow frosted fields.

Elizabeth approached him. She knew she ought not, they had not been introduced and she had no chaperon. But she felt she must, this might be her only time to speak to him unguarded, the only time she might discover his true character.

He was lost in thought. She was now standing right beside him but he had not looked towards her, his eyes staring unseeingly at the glorious sunrise. He had beautiful eyes, but were they kind, she wondered? Were they the eyes of a sensible, feeling man?

"The most beautiful sunrise I ever beheld, but I think the weather will turn bad before evening," his voice had surprised her rich and warm against the cold January morning.

He had not known what to say. Darcy had always hated the banality of polite speech. The idle chatter that had to be gotten through before one could say what one really wished to. Yet he must acknowledge her presence somehow. He could hardly just ask her to marry him. The weather had seemed a safe enough topic.

But Elizabeth was in no mood for polite speech. "What have you done to blacken your name so badly you must seek a wife in such a manner?" It was an impertinent question to be sure, but the impropriety of the entire situation made her bold.

His continence darkened and Lizzy immediately wished to retract the question, but before she could he launched into his answer.

"Indeed, I have acted most wrongly. I was negligent in my role as guardian. Because of this my sister was seduced by a blackguard, persuaded to elope, and then all but abandoned once the villain was given control of her dowry," he spoke with such passion Elizabeth could feel his anger and guilt, "She was only fifteen years old at the time." This was related to chasten Elizabeth for such a brazen question, yet he was the one left feeling scolded by his own words.

"Oh," was all Elizabeth could muster at first, hastily she added, "I'm so sorry."

"As am I," he certainly looked it.

After a moment of recovery she asked, "Why must you marry now?"

"My estate, like your father's, is entailed. In the case of Pemberley, it may only be inherited by someone in the direct family line. My sister is currently the only eligible inheritor other than myself and, as all of her property will go to her husband, it seemed practical that I should begin work on producing," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "an heir."

Elizabeth blushed, though she felt ridiculous for doing so.

"And you came here in search of a wife for what reason?"

"My paternal grandfather and yours were apparently intimate friends. There was a mutual wish to unite our families through marriage. My father acquainted me with this pact some years ago though he never expected me to hold to it. However, when I received a letter from Mr. Bennet I thought fulfilling my grandfather's wish might be a way to solve both of our problems."

"And have you and Papa come to an agreement?"

"Yes," he paused to observe her reaction, she pointed her chin defiantly, "if you find it acceptable." He wondered if he should propose formally, somehow doing so seemed very strange but the whole situation was odd so perhaps he should.

Elizabeth interrupted his internal debate, "How much am I worth then?"

It seemed rather gauche to discuss such things, but then, of course, this was to be a marriage of convenience, why should she not know what she was to get out of it? Darcy outlined the settlement just as he had for her father.

"Goodness." She was shocked. This man appeared to be a far better bargain than Mr. Collins. It was obvious that he already knew her answer, indeed she could hardly deny him when her father's health was questionable and such a generous offer stood before her. Yet she took a moment to mourn the love match she would never make. It was a rather silly thing to miss really, especially as she had never fallen in love and was unlikely to ever do so in the rather small social circle in which she moved. This was a better match than she could have ever hoped for.

"My only condition is that my sister will not be thrown off. She is my only family. I do not abandon family," The words were spoken almost harshly, he was evidently defensive about his position.

Elizabeth nodded her head once, to show her understanding. She very much respected his notion of family loyalty.

"Yes, I will marry you." Her voice was clear and even, she gave him an appraising look which he returned. She faltered under his unchanging, intimidating stare, "That was what you asked was it not?"

He smiled ever so slightly, which made him less menacing but turned her insides to jelly for some inexplicable reason, "Yes, that was the question." He glanced at the sunrise one last time before offering her his arm and turning back towards the house.

Just as they reached the front door Elizabeth began to giggle. Though she tried to swallow her mirth, moments later it had turned into full, unladylike laughter. The gentleman cast a questioning glance upon her.

"Sir, it has just occurred to me that I have agreed to marry you but I do not know your name."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Lizzy exaggeratedly curtsied, "Mr. Darcy, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

* * *

Later that morning Elizabeth was called into her father's study. Mr. Darcy stood up quickly upon her entrance and offered her the chair he had just vacated. She declined, preferring to stand next to him. She shot a steely glare first at her father then at Mr. Darcy. Though she supposed she could not be angry with either man, it gave her some satisfaction to give a bit of discomfort to the two men who it seemed would forever control her life.

"You'll have him?" Mr. Bennet asked, undeterred by his daughter's glare. He had known that though she loved him, he would not escape her wrath entirely. He was also well aware he deserved it.

"Yes, Papa," was her simple reply.

Mr. Bennet nodded sadly, turning to Darcy he asked, "When will the wedding be then?"

"I had hoped we would be wed before the end of the month."

Elizabeth gasped, "No! Certainly not. I had hoped to stay with my father until . . . ." _His death._ The words remained unspoken.

Darcy was in an awkward position. Having experienced the death of his own father, he was well aware of the pain Elizabeth must be feeling. However, Mr. Bennet might live for months or even years longer than expected, doctors were often wrong. "With circumstances with my estate as they are I cannot—"

Mr. Bennet surprisingly interrupted with his concurrence, "No, of course the wedding cannot be put off for such a macabre reason. Lizzy, I think it best if you marry sooner rather than later," With a scolding glance towards his future son-in-law he said, "Perhaps, not quite as soon as Mr. Darcy suggests. But soon." Though having Elizabeth near as he faced death would be a comfort to him, he did not know if it would be good for her. It would bring her pain to see him decline and she would be the most affected by his death of any of his family. Joy suited his Lizzy so much better than despair. The marriage would distract her from loss and perhaps bring her joy in the form of children of her own.

"Fine, I will marry you in the spring. After Easter," Elizabeth said firmly, those beautiful eyes ablaze as they had been the night before.

"The spring will not do," Darcy said. Elizabeth gave him a challenging look that demanded an explanation. What could he say? _I have this strange fear, though I have no evidence, that my sister's husband may try to kill me. _No, that would make him sound mad indeed, "I will be busy with my estate at that time it is the beginning of planting season."

Elizabeth glowered more fiercely at this weak justification.

"My sister is with child I do not wish to leave her when she reaches confinement which will be soon." Something in Mr. Darcy's tone calmed her anger. Childbirth was never completely safe for any woman, but he seemed particularly worried.

Though it was still not proper justification in Elizabeth's mind something within her had softened towards her fiancé, she decided to capitulate, "One month. I want a whole month to prepare. And I need Jane," she turned to her father with pleading eyes. Lizzy knew it was selfish to ask for Jane to leave London, but she could not face this without her dearest sister.

"I have already sent her a letter. She should return home within the week."

Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy once more. She was on the edge of tears, but she refused to cry in front of this man again, putting on an arch expression she said, "I do hope you do not always expect to get your way. If you do, you will be severely disappointed." With that she quit the room.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been clear to Lizzy that Mr. Darcy had wished to depart early that morning fearing inclement weather. Mrs. Bennet, however, had other plans. She pressed him to stay and take breakfast, when he declined citing a wish to not intrude on the family privacy, she pointed out that he would soon be family. Thus he stayed, no doubt out of sheer politeness.

Her mother's behavior was as bad as Lizzy feared it would be. Mrs. Bennet outright asked Mr. Darcy his annual worth. To his credit he did not appear discomposed and answered her as if it had been a perfectly reasonable question to ask. For a whole minute after she had remained silent and Lizzy hoped her mother had been rendered mute by her fiancé's consequence. That proved to be too hopeful a thought. Her mother soon began speaking again this time to crow about the fortune of her daughter.

Mary took this moment to add some platitude concerning the lack of correlation between wealth and happiness. Kitty laughed nervously throughout breakfast and Lydia pressed Lizzy to hold a ball in town as soon as she was wed. Mr. Bennet, though he did not add to the ridiculous behavior did nothing to rein in his wife or younger daughters.

After breakfast Mr. Darcy was pressed to stay once more. Mrs. Bennet insisted he must be given time with his fiancée. Lizzy very much wanted to get to know him but not at the cost of delaying him any further. They were granted the use of the drawing room with the door left ajar, of course (Mrs. Bennet was undoubtedly on the other side of it).

Darcy observed his fiancée as she sat quietly in the chair across from him. She seemed ill at ease. Was her unease caused by being alone with himself, he wondered? That seemed unlikely she had shown no symptoms of anxiety earlier that morning.

Conscious that her mother was most likely listening Elizabeth whispered, "I must apologize, Mr. Darcy, for the behavior of my mother and sisters."

He shook his head about to speak but she pushed on.

"I am aware that they are ridiculous at times. My mother worst of all. I would like to say she will improve upon further acquaintance, but I cannot."

"She was exuberant, yes. But not beyond what one might expect of a mother whose daughter is recently engaged." Well, truly it had been far beyond but Darcy was not about to admit it. Though he certainly did not relish the connections he was soon to obtain, recent events had taught him that _he_ had some relatives of his own that left much to be desired.

Lizzy observed her fiancé with a critical eye. He might claim not to judge them but the stony demeanor he kept throughout breakfast begged to differ. Mr. Darcy had offered very little conversation (though very few sensible topics were introduced so perhaps she ought to forgive him) and what he had said had been almost entirely monosyllabic. But he had endured, better still he had managed to stay polite. She knew she could not fault his behavior.

After a long silence Lizzy introduced the topic of literature hoping to find some similar interest with her soon-to-be husband. The conversation was stilted at first, then as both parties found the other to be in complete disagreement, more impassioned. Unfortunately, they were interrupted before any conclusions could be reached.

Mrs. Bennet rushed in with the purpose of announcing that Charlotte Lucas had come to say her farewells. She would be married tomorrow and would be leaving for Kent directly. Lizzy now understood the reason for her mother's delay of Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet must be given time to gloat, especially after Lady Lucas was heard to say that it was unlikely Jane would marry Bingley.

Charlotte was led in moments later.

"It is so fortunate that you are here in time to be introduced to Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Bennet gleefully declared, "Mr. Darcy, this is Miss Lucas very soon to be Mrs. Collins. The Lucas are our neighbors and very close acquaintances, and Mr. Collins, her fiancé, is our dear cousin. Charlotte, this is Mr. Darcy, Lizzy's fiancé."

Charlotte was so shocked she barely remembered to curtsy. She bewilderedly delivered her felicitations all while giving her friend a questioning stare.

Mrs. Bennet then went on to expound about the grandness of Mr. Darcy's estate, as though she had visited, and the connection of the families, making it sound far closer than it actually was. Once she was sure she had fully impressed upon Charlotte how advantageous the match was, she made some excuse and fluttered out of the room to spread her excitement to the rest of the house.

After a bit of polite conversation, in which her fiancé only commented on the weather (which was a matter of importance to him) Darcy excused himself to give the two friends privacy.

"You must be surprised I have entered into such an arrangement, given how severe I was upon you for accepting Mr. Collins," said Lizzy guiltily.

"I am astonished, and worried. Lizzy, you are not like me you have always had romantic notions about marriage. Can you be happy?"

"I hope so . . .he seems . . .he seems a good sort of gentleman. I must be happy, I have no other choice."

Confusion was written on Charlotte's face.

"Papa is dying," Elizabeth explained.

"Oh, Lizzy. I am so sorry."

"Mr. Darcy has promised my mother and sisters' security. They will be very well taken care of."

Charlotte could see her friend's anxiety. "I know you may not feel so now but I am sure, in time, you will take great joy in having done such a selfless thing for your sisters."

"That is what I must hope. But when has martyrdom ever led to happiness? The saints look none too comfortable in all those paintings," Lizzy said with a small smile. She had known her friend would see through her calm demeanor. Humor made things much easier to discuss. "But you must know my actions are not completely selfless, according to my mother Pemberley is the grandest estate in all of England."

Charlotte laughed and pulled Lizzy into a hug, "Practicality will lead us to contentment, I am certain."

_Contentment? Is that all I am to hope for? _Lizzy thought though she did not voice her opinion. Charlotte was trying her best to cheer her up. Sensing that Lizzy wished for the serious talk to pass Charlotte spoke about her expectations for Kent and the new position marriage would bring. After a bit of reminiscing about their younger days the visit came to an end with both ladies near tears. Charlotte begged Lizzy to visit her sometime in the future. Lizzy promised that she would though internally she recognized that the final decision on such a journey would be in the hands of Mr. Darcy.

After Charlotte's departure, Mr. Darcy rejoined Lizzy in the drawing room with Mrs. Bennet quick on his heels.

"You must convince Mr. Darcy to stay, Lizzy. He cannot think of leaving now!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. She had every intention of having him stay another night so that she could show him off at Charlotte's wedding.

"I am sure if Mr. Darcy wishes to leave it is because he has important matters to attend to, Mama."

Mrs. Bennet scoffed, "Men always think that what they have to do is important, but it rarely is."

Elizabeth turned her laughing eyes upon Mr. Darcy, "Is this true? Do you have delusions of importance?"

"I could not say," he replied stiffly.

Elizabeth smiled a smile that may have very well stopped her fiancé's heart for half a moment, "I should not tease, you are eager to return to your sister. Wish her well for me?"

Darcy felt the warmth and genuineness in her voice, "Yes, of course." Silently the couple looked at each other as a feeling of understanding passed between them. Mrs. Bennet, completely unobservant of this, used their silence to entreat him to stay once more. Mr. Darcy could not hide his annoyance, but Lizzy must admit he did try.

He declined to stay, very firmly saying his farewells to Mrs. Bennet then he looked to Elizabeth, "Miss Elizabeth, I hope to find you and your family well in one month's time."

"Goodbye Mr. Darcy, take care upon your journey home." He bowed and turned to quit the room but Elizabeth grabbed his hand.

"Write to me," she blurted. Her own forwardness shocked her as much as it had shocked him.

"I wish to know you better. It would not be inappropriate as we are engaged," she hoped she did not sound as desperate as she felt.

He looked for a moment as though he might speak, to decline perhaps, but he fumbled for his words and thought the better of it instead simply nodding his assent. Darcy moved her hand which still clutched his own to his lips and placed a kiss upon it. Elizabeth's heart did indeed stop for a full minute.

* * *

Charlotte's wedding went as expected the next day, the snow ended early and though the carriages had a bit of trouble getting to the church the small gathering of friends and family arrived as cheery as one ought to be at a wedding. It was a dreary affair for Elizabeth to see her friend enter a marriage of such unequal wit but she did her best not to let it show.

Jane returned home two days later. Her spirits were somewhat dampened though she retained her usual hopefulness. Mr. Bennet had not include the reason for his request of her return in the letter, thus she was astonished to find her sister engaged. She was even more astonished to find the reasoning behind the sudden match.

"Lizzy, you do not have to do this. I don't care if we have to take in sewing or washing we can find a way to make a living and stay together."

"There is not enough sewing or washing in all of Meryton, or anywhere else, to keep six women in any degree of comfort—,"

"We do not need comfort—,"Jane interrupted.

Elizabeth silenced her, "You may not, but Mama, Lydia, Kitty? They would not be able to handle our degraded situation. He has offered our family more than I could have ever imagined. And I have accepted."

"He must be a good man to be willing to provide for his relations so generously. I believe he will treat you well . . . perhaps, in time, you may come to love him."

Oh dear Jane, ever willing to see the best in people. Including those she had yet to meet.

"I spoke with him very briefly. Not enough to properly judge his character. The only observation that I can give you is that he is proud and reserved. He cares a great deal for his sister which is to his credit. He may be generous, or perhaps he simply wants me to tolerate the scandal that will come with this marriage and feels he must pay me accordingly. Either way I am grateful."

Elizabeth said she had not been given time enough to judge his character, yet there were some things she had noticed. Though circumstances had humbled him, there were moments when she could glimpse the proud man he must have been before his sister's scandal. This frightened her.

Her family had not the distinction of his, this she could understand. But would he hold it against her? She did not want a husband that would come to resent her for lack of wealth and connection. She ought not _try_ to find fault with him, she knew. Indeed, there was nothing truly offensive in his behavior.

Lizzy's brief assessment proved insufficient for her sister. Jane pressed for more information, "Is he amiable?"

"Not at all."

Jane gave her sister a questioning look.

"He is not of the sociable sort, that much I can tell. Mr. Darcy is all things polite, but by no means is he affable."

Jane was ready to come to the poor man's defense (though she had yet to know him) but Lizzy did it for her.

"I am perhaps too hard on him. Why should everyone be of a social nature? We cannot all always be chattering about. Perhaps he is perfect for me. He will suffer my nonsensical chatter silently."

Lizzy's self-effacing humor succeeded in making her elder sister grin but Jane knew the tactic well, Elizabeth, like their father, used clever quips to derail conversations they did not wish to have. Jane, however, had no intention of dropping the subject. She continued her onslaught of questions concerning Darcy.

"Is he handsome?"

"Yes." Lizzy replied immediately.

"He must have thought you rather beautiful to have asked for your hand after seeing you just once."

Lizzy had not told Jane that Mr. Darcy and their father had been bargaining for Jane's hand before Elizabeth had barged in and extracted that fateful promise from her father. She was certain that upon seeing Jane Mr. Darcy would feel that he had been duped.

Jane continued to inquire throughout the day, attacking in various means which reminded Lizzy very much of their mother. Jane was usually never one to pry, but Lizzy supposed she was probably as eager to know more about Mr. Darcy as she herself was.

* * *

Writing a letter to Elizabeth proved difficult for Darcy. What did she wish to hear? Should he describe Pemberley and the surrounding countryside, as it was to be her new home? Or would that seem to be boastful? She had said she wished to know him. Did she want a further discussion of his taste in literature? Their first conversation on the subject had proved to be divisive. Did she expect some attempt at romance?

For a moment he considered consulting his sister. She, after all, would be more likely than himself to understand the female mind. Yet he could not bring himself to seek her out. He had yet to even tell her of his intention to marry. Thinking of Georgiana only brought on more questions. Would she accept Elizabeth? What would she think of the hastiness of their union? No, he would wait to write the letter. He must first find a way to tell Georgiana about his impending marriage. He realized he was being cowardly. That he was postponing out of fear rather than of any real need. It was very unlike him, but he simply could not bring himself to do it.

* * *

Lizzy waited two weeks for her letter. Almost patiently. She had plenty to do to pass the time. Items must be bought for her trousseau, the wedding breakfast had to be planned and all this must be accomplished exclusively in the company of Mrs. Bennet. What other time she had left was spent visiting about the neighborhood and having private chats with Jane or her father. She tried not to think upon the fact that it would be a long while before she would see them again after she was wed. Worse still, it was very possible that she might never see her father again. So, as to not think of the pain of loss, she fretted about the husband she was soon to gain.

He was not going to write her, this much she concluded after two weeks. Having never been one to let rudeness go unpunished, she wrote him an ever-so-slightly sardonic missive.

Dear Mr. Darcy,

Or should I call you Fitzwilliam? Or Fitz or Will, perhaps? I cannot know.

Your letter, it would seem, has been lost in the mail, so you must forgive me if I repeat topics which were addressed within it. I do believe we left off our discussion of literature on the topic of the works of Mr. Milton. Shall we pick up there? Perhaps we had best not as I have never met someone whose opinion on the subject differed so much from my own.

We have yet to discuss music, much to our own shame as I am told it is the duty of every cultured person to address the subject. I find the works of Mr. Beethoven delightful, therefore I can only assume you abhor them.

Or we might compare the peace of the country to the many attractions of Town. I daresay you are one of those who favor the country, as I am myself, though of course, you might surprise me. What shall it be, Mr. Darcy? Will I be required to play hostess to a great many soirées? Shall my feet ache from dancing the Season throughout?

Better still we could speak of our childhood. I have grown up absolutely wild as you might have suspected. Imagine five girls brought up without a governess in the pastoral atmosphere of Hertfordshire. That is why you find me the hoyden that I am. And perhaps why I have the boldness to send you such a ridiculous letter.

With the best wishes for yourself and your sister,

Elizabeth

* * *

Elizabeth did not expect a reply at all. What gentleman would wish to be called out in such a manner by a mere female? She had certainly not expected so quick a reply, delivered express at that.

Dearest Elizabeth,

I am clever enough to know a rebuke when I see one and sensible enough to offer an apology when I know one is needed. I have been remiss. When I made the promise to write you I fully intended to honor it. But foolishness kept me from putting pen to paper.

As you may have come to suspect I am not comfortable discussing my private affairs with strangers. But that is a poor excuse. You, of course, should not be a stranger to me and I have no intention of having you remain one.

I too find the works of Beethoven delightful, though I must admit I prefer Pleyel. There are, I am sure, a great many other things we might find to agree on, but do you not find it invigorating to disagree as well? Surely, polite disagreement must be part of a good marriage. I daresay we will be quite proficient at it.

Your assumption that I prefer the country is correct, especially since certain unpleasant events occurred. I had not planned on residing in Town for a great while, I hope you will understand. As I told your mother, Pemberley has many delights, especially in the springtime when the grounds are at their best. I understand that you are very fond of walking, perhaps we might take a full tour of the park when fine weather returns?

My childhood was a happy one. I do not often speak about it though, as it ended so abruptly. I was away at school when my mother died, when I returned home the happiness of that place had drained away. My father never recovered from my mother's death and I fear that my sister's childhood was not idyllic like my own. Though the circumstances are not what either of us might have wished, perhaps together we might bring joy back to Pemberley.

Hoping for your forgiveness,

Will


	6. Chapter 6

Lizzy was smiling when she put down her letter. Jane's smile followed her sister's, thrilled that Mr. Darcy had written something that pleased Lizzy so. She wanted very much to ask what had been said, but she did not wish to press her sister. Lydia and Kitty, who could find nothing more exciting to do than watch Lizzy read her letter, had no qualms about prying.

Lydia, as usual, was the first to make demands, "Well—read it aloud!"

Kitty heartily agreed.

Lizzy read the bulk of the letter leaving out the last paragraph about his childhood and his hopes, that part seemed too private. When she had finished Lydia scoffed, "Ugh, he may be rich and handsome, but he is so dull."

"I think it was a very good letter," defended Jane, "It showed wit and humor . . . and humility. It was good of him to apologize."

"Yes, it is good to know he can take my teasing . . . I am not sure if I could stop even if I tried," Lizzy said with a grin.

"Do you think Papa will find me a husband?" Kitty asked hopefully.

Jane and Lizzy sputtered, trying to find an answer, but Lydia interrupted, "Ha, Mr. Darcy is only marrying Lizzy because his sister's scandal. You don't want Papa to find you a husband, we can find much better husbands on our own."

Kitty looked doubtful, Jane looked scolding.

"Lydia, we should not discuss Mr. Darcy's family in such a way," Jane chided gently. The younger girls had found out about the scandal through Sir William Lucas. Upon hearing about Lizzy's upcoming marriage, Mr. Collins had related the Darcys' misfortune to his father-in-law. Sir William Lucas was convinced that the Bennet's could not know of it and went immediately to Longbourn to save Lizzy from infamy.

Lydia was undeterred, "I don't know why it's such a scandal anyway. I think it deliciously wicked. When I marry I want to be so in love I'm willing to elope. You are never going to be in love with boring, old Mr. Darcy."

"Lydia!" Jane exclaimed.

"Then I think it providential that you do not have Miss Darcy's, rather Mrs. Wickham's, fortune. There are men, Lydia, who will prey on a young lady's romantic notions in order to gain her wealth. Or other favors," Lizzy knew she ought not speak so blatantly to her younger sister, but the sentiments Lydia had expressed truly worried her.

"Oh fie! Lizzy, you've grown so dull since your engagement," with that Lydia stomped out of the room. Kitty stayed a moment looking torn, but then rose quickly and followed her younger sister.

Lizzy audibly sighed, "I worry about her . . . both of them, really."

Jane silently nodded. Joining Lizzy on their bed, she pulled her younger sister against her until Lizzy's head rest upon her shoulder, as she used to do when they were girls. "I will take care of them. You need not worry," she comforted.

"It should not be your responsibility, Jane. You are free to pursue your own happiness."

Jane knew Lizzy was referring to marriage, specifically marriage to Mr. Bingley. She did not think it a possibility anymore. When she had called upon his sister he was not at home and Caroline had left her with the distinct feeling that he did not wish to see her, "You have done what you must for our family, now I will do what I must. Mama will need help when . . .when the time comes. With you marrying so well, I no longer feel the pressure to make a good match."

"I am marrying Mr. Darcy so that the rest of my sisters are free to do as they choose. You must not make yourself a martyr as well. If you are given a chance at happiness, promise me you will take it," Lizzy urged.

Jane looked hesitant.

"Papa has seemed so much better lately. I think it is because he knows we will be taken care of. I think that he might live much longer than expected, perhaps longer still if he were to see you happy, Jane. Promise me?"

Jane was on the edge of tears, but she smiled, "I will promise. Though I do not think it likely that I will find happiness in the way you are suggesting. I think . . .I think I may have lost my heart," she broke down in tears at this point. Lizzy crossed the room to retrieve a handkerchief.

After a moment to recover, Jane pressed on, "If I cannot marry where my heart is, I do not want to marry at all. I will be happy to be of use to my family, Lizzy, you must believe me."

"I do. But if Mr. Bingley were to return do not let any concerns on behalf of our sisters stop you from accepting him. You would flout the entire purpose of my sacrifice and steal my glory."

Jane laughed despite her tears, "If Mr. Bingley were to make an offer I do not think any concern in the world could stop me from accepting. Is not that awful?"

"No, it is wonderful! I am relieved to hear it," Lizzy pulled Jane into a full hug doing her best to hide her tears of relief. She was terribly worried for her family and was glad to know that Jane at least would take happiness if it were offered to her. If only she could find some way to make Mr. Bingley return to Netherfield.

After a long silence Jane spoke, "Lizzy, I do believe that you will be happy. I think you will come to love Mr. Darcy."

Lizzy glanced to her letter now sitting on the dresser. She had but ten days before her wedding. She had spent the greater part of the month anxious about her family and her future. Odd as it might seem his letter had calmed her fears and now she felt ready to embrace her future, "I think you may be right," she replied confidently.

* * *

A few days after sending his letter to Lizzy, Mr. Darcy was back in London. He had received an urgent message from Mr. Davis, one of his business associates. The letter had been vague and Darcy would have believed it counterfeit except it was in Davis's hand and it gave enough detail of their venture to be convincing. The oddest part of the letter perhaps was that Davis had specified a time for their meeting. He and Mr. Davis were of a very different social standing and it was not at all the thing for one in Davis's position to make demands on the time of a man like himself. Darcy could only assume the issue must be pressing indeed.

Darcy arrived early and went immediately to stow his horse at the nearest stable. He had considered sending his man-of-business to see to the meeting, but Darcy always felt that, when possible, it was best to see to one's financial affairs one's self. This part of London was always bustling and loud, perhaps that was why he did not notice the cart until it was nearly too late. As he crossed the street to Mr. Davis's office a cart laden with bricks, pulled by four mules turned the corner at high speed. Pedestrians jumped out of the way and other vehicles swerved in all directions trying to avoid it.

A shabby carriage suddenly shifted towards Darcy, he leapt away to avoid it completely unaware of the other danger rushing towards him. Had the boy selling newspapers on the street corner not yelled out "Sir!" while pointing in the direction of the oncoming cart Darcy doubted he would have seen it before it had run him down. He raced towards Mr. Davis's office inattentive to what might be coming his way. He focus was now solely on the cart which seemed to be veering towards him. Darcy launched himself towards the wooden steps which raised the sidewalk out of the muck. He landed hard against the walkway. The driver of the cart appeared to be urging his mules forward as though he was trying to encourage them to run into the walkway, but the mules luckily were stubborn and refused their master's demand. For a moment as it passed the cart swayed dangerously close and Darcy thought that its load might fall and crush him. But it did not. The cart sped past, curses flying at it in all directions.

"Are you alright, sir?" This came from the boy who had saved Darcy's life. He was standing above him holding out his hat which had fallen into the street.

Darcy nodded wordlessly. He took the hat, dusted it off best he could the handed the boy what amounted to the contents of his pocket book in gratitude. The boy excitedly said his thanks and ran off. Darcy sat for a moment, too stunned to move. That had certainly been an intentional attempt on his life. It was true that sometimes drivers lost control of their cattle, but that man had been egging them, on not trying to calm them.

Mr. Davis appeared before him, on the brink of tears. He offered Darcy his hand which was gratefully taken. "What has happened?" Darcy asked.

"I never meant any harm to come to you, I swear it. He said if I set up a meeting he'd give her back," Mr. Davis's words came in a rush.

Dread set in the pit of Darcy's stomach, "Give who back?"

"My Mary, my little girl. She's been gone six days now,"

Darcy knew Davis's "little girl" was nearly seventeen years old, the perfect age for Wickham to use his tricks upon. "This man, was his name Wickham?"

"He wouldn't give a name, he just said he had her and I knew he must. She's been gone and she's not the sort of girl to just run off."

"What did he look like?" Darcy pressed.

Darcy looked very grave upon hearing Mr. Davis described Wickham perfectly.

"What will I do?" Mr. Davis was near hysterical at this point, "He was trying to kill you! Will he kill her now?"

"I do not think so. The man is my brother-in-law, his dispute is with me." Darcy, frustrated combed his hands through his hair almost violently, "You must come with me, we will go to Bow Street. I will hire a man to find your daughter."

* * *

Four days before the day that was to be her wedding Lizzy received another missive from Mr. Darcy. She was surprised to receive another letter as she had not even sent one in reply to his first. She had put it off, her time had been filled by her mother's demands and she was not sure if the letter would reach him before their wedding anyway. His letter was short and was delivered along with several boxes filled with gifts for her family. Her sisters and mother were each given lace handkerchiefs and fine gloves as well as a selection of music books, presumably for all the young ladies, though Mary was far more likely to put them to use. Her father received a thick tome on botany.

Lizzy was far too busy reading the letter to open her box.

"He says he must delay the wedding two days," she said this emotionlessly though a whirlwind was spinning within her. She had finally resigned herself to her fate, goodness she'd even talked herself into being happy about it, any delay was most unwelcome.

No one marked her except Jane and her father, the others too distracted by their gifts. Lizzy handed the letter to her father.

"How strange," her father concluded after giving the missive a once over.

"He says some urgent business delayed him. It must be very urgent, indeed," Lizzy hated how petulant she sounded. But truly, what sort of man delayed his own wedding? Especially after he had pressed to have it so quickly in the first place.

"I am sure it is very important, Lizzy," Jane comforted.

Mrs. Bennet's attention was caught by this, "What is important?"

"Mr. Darcy wishes to delay the wedding two days, Mama," Jane answered.

"Two days! Well, he cannot. I have already invited everyone to the wedding breakfast. He cannot suddenly change his mind!"

"He is not changing his mind, my dear, he is delaying."

"How can we be sure? Perhaps he will keep delaying till she is an old maid!"

"She is already an old maid!" Lydia added.

"Hush!" Mrs. Bennet howled, "Oh, this gives me such anxiety! Here I thought we were saved! Lizzy, what did you do to scare him off?"

Mrs. Bennet continued behaving in this ridiculous manner until she was persuaded to retire to her room (where her behavior indubitably continued, but at least her family was given a respite from it). She was somewhat calmed after seeing Lizzy's gift from Mr. Darcy, a lovely emerald necklace.

"That would look very well with your sage gown. If you ever have occasion to wear it," she pessimistically declared.

* * *

Mr. Darcy arrived the day before the wedding, late as he had the first time. He had been attending some business in London though he would not explain beyond that. Though a room had been readied at Longbourn for him he surprised them all by declaring that he would be staying at Netherfield under the hospitality of his good friend Mr. Bingley. His visit was short and Lizzy was given no time to speak with him alone.

The next day, Lizzy did have occasion to wear her new sage green dress and the necklace did indeed look very well with it. The wedding went as a wedding ought, though it was the bride's father, not mother, who shed tears (and he hid them very well, indeed). The bride was cheerful and blushing as she walked down the aisle. The bridesmaid equally so, though this might be credited to the best man who had been so focused on admiring said bridesmaid, he had to be prompted for the ring twice. The ceremony went smoothly beyond that small hitch and it was not long before the couple, for better or for worse, was pronounced man and wife. Lizzy signed the name Bennet for the last time, and then was led from the church on her husband's arm. Her _husband_ . She would belong, for the rest of her life, to the man beside her. Mr. Darcy. Fitzwilliam. Will.

Who was he really? She had caught a glimpse of him in his letter, but that side of him was not in view today. Today he was silent, almost grave. He hardly looked like a man who had just gotten married. She reasoned that he must be thinking about something that greatly disturbed him. She suspected that business in London that had delayed him had a something to do with it. Or perhaps he was already regretting the match.

Was this what her life would be like? Constantly trying to predict what the taciturn man, who was now her husband, was thinking? Perhaps they ought to always communicate through letters. He had at least demonstrated some vulnerability in his armor there.

They arrived back at Longbourn a merry party, even if Lizzy was too preoccupied with her musings on her new husband to join in. After receiving the well-wishings of everyone in attendance the honored couple was all but ignored. Mr. Bennet, Sir William Lucas, and Mr. Phillips engaged in some conversation of politics. Mr. Bennet's contribution seemed half-hearted at best, though. He mostly looked to his favorite daughter with misty eyes. Kitty and Lydia engaged in some silly conversation with Miss Lucas. Mary sat near them without participating. Jane and Mr. Bingley stared into each other's eyes in a love struck manner, undoubtedly speaking complete nonsense, but each too enamored with the other to care. Mrs. Bennet busied herself relishing the attention of Mrs. Phillips and Lady Lucas, who were obliged to listen to her tales of triumph.

"Mr. Bennet had this planned all along of course. Oh, what a splendid joke, was it not? He and Lizzy are always up to their tricks. Jane had been the one intended to marry Mr. Darcy, but then there was Mr. Bingley so Lizzy of course, did her duty as she should. If only they had told me of this before with Mr. Collins—but I ought not mention it. But I would not have been so hard on her had I known. But it was a clever trick! And so delightful! And he is so handsome, and did I mention ten thousand a year?"

Lizzy, upon hearing her mother's voice carry clearly across the room, looked with concern to her husband. But Mr. Darcy did not meet her gaze, he looked out the window and sighed, doubtlessly wishing for this gathering to end. Lizzy wordlessly left his side, joining her younger sisters. Time passed quickly and, though talk of balls and beaux would hardly have been so exceedingly diverting to her under normal circumstances, she found she did not wish the conversation over. She would miss their frivolity. Their innocence and joy.

But it did end. Her mother was handing the guests cake and Lizzy was receiving yet more well-wishings and hugs. And then the tears came, so many tears. Mr. Bennet cried for all to see and even Mrs. Bennet, who had never made it any secret that Lizzy was by no means her favorite daughter, wept.

"Do try to be a good girl," Mrs. Bennet said by way of final goodbye as she pulled her second daughter tightly against her bosom.

"I will try—though I can make no promises," Lizzy declared.

Mr. Bennet laughed, reaching for his daughter once more, though he must have already held her ten times, "I am sorry," he whispered.

Lizzy chuckled, whispering conspiringly, "Don't be. You will offend Mr. Darcy, with all this apologizing. You may not have noticed, but he is standing right there." Indeed, he was. He had hardly said two words to anyone all morning, therefore his presence might very well be forgotten.

"You have always been the dearest of my children. I do not know how I will live without you. You will take good care of my Lizzy, Mr. Darcy?"

In what was probably the longest reply he had given anyone since the wedding, Mr. Darcy said, "I will."

Then, somehow, Lizzy found herself being handed into Mr. Darcy's carriage. Moments later her husband was sitting across from her and the only home she had ever known was fading into the distance.


	7. Chapter 7

Darcy observed his wife from across the room with concern. She had been quiet and distracted ever since she had left Longbourn two days ago. Though he could not claim to know her well, he felt he knew enough to worry. Elizabeth did not seem the sort to fall victim to fits of melancholy. He understood that she must be mourning the life she had left behind, longing for her family. She was also undoubtedly overwhelmed.

Pemberley had been more than she had expected, it was written on her face the moment the house had come into view. Did she fear being its mistress? Darcy had no apprehension in that regard. Elizabeth was certainly a sensible woman and with the help of the excellent Mrs. Reynolds she could not fail at her duties. He wondered if he ought to say as much, but then her worries might be something else entirely. Darcy felt that pressing sense of powerlessness, a feeling he had grown used to over the past six months. He had felt it throughout their journey to Pemberley, as he had watched her weep whilst she insisted that she was _not _weeping.

Worries about being the mistress of Pemberley had certainly occurred to Elizabeth. When they had arrived this afternoon she had been introduced to all the household staff and given a quick tour of the house by Mrs. Reynolds. The housekeeper seemed a capable woman and very loyal to the Darcys. Elizabeth was certain she could rely on her to help her adjust to her duties. It would be a challenge to be sure, but not insurmountable.

After her tour, Mr. Darcy had introduced her to Georgiana. Mrs. Wickham was not at all what Elizabeth had expected. In truth, she had thought to find a girl like Lydia, silly, impulsive, and rambunctious. Like her brother, Georgiana was reserved, but unlike her brother she lacked all confidence. Though she was tall framed and womanly in figure she seemed fragile, perhaps because of the obvious swell in her middle that even her high-waisted gown could not conceal.

Georgiana behaved almost fearful of her brother though Elizabeth could not account for this. After all, Mr. Darcy spoke of his sister only with love and had done a great deal to ensure her protection. And yet his manner, always a bit stiff, increased in rigidity the moment his sister entered the room. Georgiana obviously felt this, though her young mind did not know how to interpret it. Elizabeth wondered as well. Was it resentment or perhaps guilt, which caused this change in her husband? She could not know, but she was certain that he was not aware of how his reaction affected his sister.

There was much between the siblings that needed to be discussed. Elizabeth did not know if it was her place to begin such a conversation. No, she _knew_ it was not her place. Yet now she must be wife to Mr. Darcy and sister to Mrs. Wickham and somehow ignore all the strain between them. She could not do it, it was not in her nature to ignore problems. Though she certainly liked to employ humor to distract from pain and fear, there were times when things simply needed to be dealt with and they were clearly not being dealt with here.

Mrs. Reynolds entered the library where both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had been awaiting dinner, "Miss Darcy wishes to dine in her room tonight. Dinner is ready to be served," she announced then exited the room. Darcy noted that she still referred to Georgiana as Miss Darcy. He did not know if this was for his benefit or her own. It gave him pain every time he was forced to introduce his sister as Mrs. Wickham. He did not think the name Wickham had passed Mrs. Reynolds lips for years.

Elizabeth was disappointed that Georgiana would not be joining them for dinner. She had hoped to further observe Mr. Darcy and his sister and perhaps set them at ease, though she had no idea how this might be achieved. She doubted very much that her usual tactic of gentle teasing would suit this situation. Indeed, _she_ did not feel much in the teasing mood herself. She had been nearly rude to poor Mr. Darcy who was probably wondering at her lack of conversation. Goodness, he had been forced to lead the conversation since they had entered his carriage yesterday morning. He had given up some time ago, silence likely suited him just fine, but Lizzy knew this was not how newlyweds ought to behave.

As he led her to the dining room she felt that she absolutely must say something, "You must promise not to leave me to find my own way about this house for at least a week, Mr. Darcy. I would still be wandering the halls if Mrs. Reynolds had not found me and directed me to the library."

"I can make that promise, Mrs. Darcy," he said casting a sidelong gaze at her.

There, that name again. Her new name. All her family had called her it, of course, immediately after the wedding. And when they had stopped at the inn, the innkeeper's daughter who had served as her temporary lady's maid had been full of "Oh yes, Mrs. Darcy" and "How lovely, Mrs. Darcy." But when that name came from _his _lips it was something different entirely. His voice was full of warmth when he spoke it, yet it gave her shivers.

He had used it, she knew, because she had forgotten once again and called him Mr. Darcy. When they were alone as they were it was frankly odd that she continued to be formal. Yet she had great difficulty in crossing that boundary. _He_ had surprisingly had no trouble adjusting, he had used her Christian name freely since they had wed. She did not know which affected her more, for he spoke "Mrs. Darcy" like a sacred promise and "Elizabeth" like a gentle embrace. And yet he was not comfortable around her for all his familiarity.

Just now, as they sat across from one another, he was grasping for words. She had known, nearly from the moment she had met him, that he was reserved. But this was something more than that. Was he anxious? Could she make such a man nervous?

"How do you find Pemberley?" Mr. Darcy finally spoke, she sensed that this was not the question he wanted to ask but she was relieved he had broken the silence.

What could she say? _I find it overwhelming. I find it too grand. I find its ambiance stifling._ It would not always feel overwhelming she was certain and perhaps she might even get used to such opulence. The stifling ambiance had far more to do with the primary occupants than Pemberley itself. Would things ever improve between the siblings?

"I find it lovely," she winced at the triviality of her words even as she spoke them.

"Indeed?"

"Yes . . . lovely."

Her husband fix an appraising expression upon her.

"I find it . . .I find it . . .,"Goodness, why was she having such trouble answering a simple question? She pressed on, "I find that it is everything I'd ever thought a grand estate to be."

"So glad it meets your standards," his tone was dry, but she saw a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, I see where you might be concerned. I have traveled far and wide to a great a variety of imposing homes, my standards are notoriously high."

"Indeed, yet you find Pemberley perfectly adequate," Was that a hint of a smile that twitched his lips?

"Perfectly so," Lizzy could fight it no longer, she laughed aloud.

"I am honored," Darcy spoke with gravity, though that certainly _was _a smile.

"You should be."

With that her dignified husband chuckled.

"That is a feat I shall add to my list of accomplishments."

His eyebrows arched in question.

"I made Fitzwilliam Darcy laugh at dinner."

Mr. Darcy's smile faltered a little and she hoped she had not hurt him with her teasing.

"These last months have brought very little to find delight in, but I believe there is hope for the future," he smiled still, but his eyes were serious now, that appraising look had returned.

Elizabeth felt a sudden jolt as though she were falling. Could she bring him the happiness he so obviously needed?

* * *

Later that evening as Elizabeth prepared for bed she reflected on earlier events. Their conversation over supper lightened considerably, yet that was frustrating as well. She wanted to know him and in order to do so surely they must speak on topics other than how they liked the assortment of dishes or the unusual coldness of the past winters. Then again, she hardly felt capable of speaking on any sensible topic at the moment.

Though it was the second night since their wedding, he had yet to visit her.

She dreaded his coming, yet a part of her was eager she had been led to believe it would be a transformative experience if not altogether pleasant.

There was a rap upon the door. _That door_. The one that adjoined their rooms

Elizabeth knew he would knock. Her mother had told her that he would do so on their wedding night. He would come to her and they would . . . mate. She grew up on a farm so she had already figured out the basics for herself. Yet listening to her mother's advice had made it so much more terrifying. But it was not as if it was avoidable. He had made it clear he was marrying to obtain an heir, and as he had been nothing but kind to her she was not very well going to deny him his rights.

So she bid him enter and tried to put on a brave a face as possible.

He paused at the door a moment to survey his wife's face. She was sitting up in her bed a book in hand. "Good evening, sir." She said. He could not help but notice the formality, yet she did not look frightened. He entered with caution. Closing the door behind him quickly crossed the room. He would have liked to jump straight into her bed. Not because of his desire for her but for warmth. His feet were bare and he wore only his dressing gown. But he did not feel he should do so without an invitation from Elizabeth. She only stared at him.

"What are you reading?" He asked, now standing at the foot of her bed.

Elizabeth could not believe he was standing there nonchalantly asking about her reading. Her heart was racing, she could not say if it was an effect of fear or something else . . .

"The Works of Shakespeare. _Much Ado About Nothing_, currently."

"Is it your favorite?"

"Yes, though it is difficult to choose among the comedies. I have not of late had much appetite for his tragedies, however."

"I think we've both had enough tragedy."

"Indeed." Lizzy said with a forced laugh. There was a long pause finally, she spoke, "You did not come here to discuss the merits of Shakespeare did you?" She thought it best to greet the issue head on rather than muck about in their discomfort any longer.

"No. I did not."

Elizabeth pulled back the bedclothes and patted the spot beside herself, "You must be cold," she said eyeing his bare legs. She had never seen a man in such a state of undress before, she hoped that the candle did not provide enough light for him to see her blush.

He took this as enough of an invitation. Carefully he climbed in bed next to her and pulled the bedclothes up to his waist. Taking the book from her hand he placed it on the nightstand then he took both of her hands in his own. Bringing each to his lips in turn he placed a kiss on every knuckle all the while looking into her eyes for any sigh of fear. She stared back at him mesmerized. Other men had kissed her hand, but never without gloves and never so adoringly.

He released her hands then ever-so-slowly bent to capture her lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Lizzy woke suddenly, stirred by the sound of a servant tending to the fire. As soon as the maid quit the room Elizabeth got out of bed and threw back the curtains. It was still rather early. Would he be awake? How should she act when she saw him? What should she say? _Good morning_, she thought with a laugh. She was being ridiculous. There was no need to be nervous. He was her husband, what had happened last night was perfectly natural. Nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to feel odd about.

Well, no. It was odd. Terribly odd. Not necessarily odd in a bad way. There had been a moment of pain, that was true. But nothing to account for all the fuss that was made. And for a time she was certain she would die of embarrassment if it were at all possible to do so. The experience had even had moments of pleasure, but overall it could only be described as odd.

It was especially odd when he had kissed her on the forehead, bid her good night and then returned to his chamber as though nothing of great importance had occurred. Perhaps that wasn't odd. Perhaps that was what husbands were supposed to do. But she had wanted him to stay. Stay and talk to her, sleep with her, hold her, stare at her uncomfortably, she would have him do anything but leave her alone after such a strange experience. But he had left, undoubtedly for some silly reason. Her modesty, perhaps?

She found her husband at breakfast, but she could not find her voice. A minute passed at least before he greeted her, the anxiety in his eyes betraying the fact that he too found the situation awkward. To think of the intimacy they had shared last night only to have nothing to say to each other come morning!

Lizzy knew that it would be up to her to break the stalemate, "Shall you give me a tour of the grounds today?"

His eyes came upon her once more appraisingly, he thought her question in jest, "It is snowing."

"I am fond of snow," she declared, her tone suggesting a challenge.

"As am I," he replied, that teasing brow of his arched ever so slightly.

Though they were both fond of snow it happened that they were not in favor of extreme chill. They took a brief tour of the garden closest to the house and ended in the orangery where Darcy spent a good deal of time showing a fascinated Elizabeth Pemberley's collection of exotic plants.

"I have changed my mind. Having seen the grounds I now find Pemberley charming," Lizzy announced.

Darcy's lips quirked in that sardonic half grin that Lizzy was growing rather fond of, "Am I to understand that charming is an upgrade from lovely?"

"Yes, of course."

"Ah, I have often wondered what the distinction was. I could never deduce it from the conversation of young ladies. I could have asked I supposed. But I doubt I would have received a sensible answer."

"Mr. Darcy! I took you for a gentleman. Yet here you are speaking unkindly of us poor females," she delivered her scold with a smile.

"Sensible woman that you are, _Mrs. Darcy_, you must agree that most young ladies speak little sense."

"You cannot judge them by how they speak to you, _Will_, as I am sure you know, you have the power to turn any young lady into a bumbling fool."

_Not you, _Darcy thought. _I fear it is I who is in your power._ "Whatever do you mean?"

"I will have none of this false modesty, you know as well as I that you are everything a young lady should want in a husband. You are quite the catch." Lizzy could laugh at herself. She had never been such an outrageous flirt in her life. Yet he was her husband, if there was anyone she could flirt outrageously with and get away with it, it was him. And she just couldn't stop herself. He was delightful to tease. Those cautious smiles of his were well worth earning.

"Are you proud then, to have caught me?" Could it be? Her serious husband was teasing!

Lizzy did laugh, "We both know you never would have considered me if—if circumstances had been what they ought to have been."

For a moment she thought he might argue, but then he said, "Yes, you are right." Seeing the surprise on her face he immediately tried to recant, "Forgive me, what I meant was—."

Lizzy interrupted him, "It is quite alright, at least I shall never have to doubt your honesty."

They both laughed. That breathy, quiet sort of laugh one makes when one does not know what to say next. In that moment it occurred to Elizabeth that she might becoming as silly as Lydia or Kitty because she desperately wanted to giggle for reasons she could not completely explain. In that same moment it occurred to Darcy that he was halfway in love with his wife already, a thought both wonderful and terrifying.

It was Elizabeth who once again broke the silence, "I do not think we would have gotten on at all if we had met in another way."

"What makes you say that?"

"You would have thought me impertinent, admit it. And I would have taken your reserve as conceit."

Darcy knew she did not intend to insult him, but he was a little hurt by her admission.

Observing her husband's dismayed expression she pressed on, "If you would have spoken to me at all we would have ended up disagreeing about Milton and any number of other things and you would have snubbed me."

"You would not have let me get away with such behavior."

"No. I would have not have. You would have hated me for certain after the setdown I would have given you."

_There_, Lizzy thought contentedly, _he is nearly smiling again_.

"You are wrong. If we had met in other circumstances it is true, I would never have considered marriage, but I know I would have admired you, greatly."

Suddenly his lips were on hers. The kisses were light and feathery at first, but quickly grew urgent. Elizabeth lost all awareness of her surroundings and was surprised indeed when she was hit on the head by a small potted tree. It would seem that in his ardor, her husband had backed her into a display of plants.

"Are you alright?" he asked

"Yes," she replied stunned, "I hardly felt it."

"My apologies," Darcy said placing the tree back on its shelf, "I forgot myself."

"As did I," Lizzy felt the heat rising in her cheeks. _How can I be blushing?_ She thought. After all that had happened last night, here she was blushing over a kiss.

"You are certain you are unhurt?" he asked concerned, as he led her towards the door that joined the orangery to the house proper.

"Yes," she halted their progress by stepping in front of him. She was not ready to return to the house and risk giving him up to his duties, "Perhaps we might stay here a little longer?"

She leaned forward hoping she looked like a woman who desperately wanted to be kissed again, not the fool she felt like. She must have accomplished her goal because he did indeed kiss her, this kiss even better than the last.

When Darcy broke the kiss they were both breathless, "Perhaps we might retire to my room?" he asked, his voice not above a whisper.

_Was he suggesting . . .? In the middle of the day! Surely such things weren't done. _Yet despite all her shock, Elizabeth found herself nodding her head in assent.

Just as the couple resolved to leave the room Mrs. Reynold entered it, "Excuse me sir, ma'am," the housekeeper was flustered, she could see she had interrupted something. "Colonel Fitzwilliam has arrived and requests an audience, I left him in your study I hope that is acceptable."

Darcy appeared dazed for a moment then hastily replied, "Yes, of course. Thank you, I will see him presently."

Darcy did not release her arm so she took it to mean she would be meeting the colonel now. She had heard her husband speak of the man before but could not recall his exact connection to the family.

As if sensing her question Darcy explained, "The colonel is my cousin, he shares guardianship of Georgiana."

It was clear upon entering the study how close the two men truly were from the heartiness of their greeting. Indeed, for a good few minutes Elizabeth felt her presence completely superfluous until the colonel's eyes fell upon her questioningly.

"Oh yes, Richard, this is my wife, Elizabeth."

From there all proper pleasantries were exchanged. She could see that the Colonel had a naturally more open disposition than her husband. He had that same teasing spirit that she possessed, though he knew how to better employ it to bring out his cousin from his natural reserve. She would have liked to further observe their interaction but could tell that the colonel had some pressing matter that needed addressing and was very kindly wishing her elsewhere.

"You must have much to discuss, I will leave you." Elizabeth tried not to feel disappointed as she left the room. She could not expect to ever have much of her husband's time, he was an important man with many duties after all. Though if she were truly honest with herself, she had expected to have at least a little time alone with him so soon after the wedding.

No matter, she needed to spend some time with Mrs. Reynolds going over the household duties. First, she must change out of her walking dress. As she climbed the stairs to her rooms she overheard the loveliest sound. Lizzy came upon Georgiana in the music room, she had not meant to disturb her new sister, but the melody that emanated from the room was like a siren's call pulling her towards it with its melancholy beauty.

When Georgiana paused her playing to turn a page she noticed Elizabeth.

The girl shot up from her bench, "Oh, I am sorry! Was I disturbing you?"

"Not at all, your playing is superb. I should be the one to apologize, I have interrupted your practice."

"No, you haven't. That is— I have been playing since breakfast. It is the only thing that soothes me."

"Could I join you?" Elizabeth asked hopefully, "I believe I can managing turning the pages for you."

"Yes," Georgiana swallowed nervously, "yes, that would be—nice."

Georgiana scooted over to provide Elizabeth room on the bench. Lizzy could tell she did not want her there, that she was merely being polite. But she took the seat anyway. They were never going to know each other without some discomfort.

Georgiana placed her hands on the keys pausing for a long moment, then she dropped them back down to her stomach. Lizzy's eyes followed the movement of the girl's hands.

"You must think me very foolish," Georgiana said in a small voice.

In truth, Lizzy had thought the girl foolish. And selfish. And lacking in all that good breeding and good education ought to have granted her. But that was before she had met her, now she did not know what to think. She only knew that sitting next to her was a sad, broken young lady.

"I think you very young."

Georgiana nodded sadly, "I am young, I did not think so then. I wanted my own life, I wanted to make my own choices. I do not know why. Will has always been so good to me."

"It is difficult to see how wonderful one's life is until it is completely torn asunder," Lizzy hoped she did not sound bitter. That bit of wisdom had escaped from her lips unintended.

"But _I knew_. _I knew_ that I was the luckiest girl in the world. I was greedy. I wanted more. I wanted love. _That_ sort of love. Love that was all my own. I believed he loved me because—because I so wanted him to. I wanted my dream. I wanted it all. So you see I am foolish—so very foolish." Georgiana spoke rapidly her hands returning to the keys, notes sounding in staccato as she accidently pressed them in her excitement. Suddenly she halted gasping for air, stifling her tears, "I am sorry. I shouldn't burden you, I don't know why I am saying these things."

"Because you wish to explain yourself to me," Elizabeth said, cautiously placing a hand upon Georgiana's shoulder, "You needn't tell me what you do not wish to, though I am happy to listen. I do not judge you, Mrs. Wickham—."

"Please," Georgiana interrupted sharply, then softening her tone, "Please, do call me Georgiana. Or rather, call me Georgie as we are sisters. Will used to call me that—though he has not for a long while."

"Then you must call me Lizzy, all my other sisters do," she replied with a reassuring smile.

"You have four sisters, I believe?" Georgiana asked.

"Yes, I come from a very lively home of near constant squabbling, but we are—were— a merry bunch."

"You must miss them dreadfully. This is not a very lively home I fear."

"No, but that can change. I believe it will change."

Georgiana looked disbelieving, "I am not certain. We have never been quite merry, even before—. There has always been some cold veil upon our happiness, first our mother's death, then our father's. Perhaps, that is what I longed for . . . ."

"Happiness is always there if we make it. We cannot let the past hold us, we must cherish those remembrances which give us pleasure and let the rest go."

"I do wish to do that," Georgiana paused finding her words, "But I often feel of late that I ought not be happy. I know I do not deserve to be happy."

"Georgiana—."

"No, it is true. After all that I have put my family through, especially Will. He takes it all upon himself. He doesn't understand—not that I blame him—but he doesn't understand that I am not entirely unhappy . . .," she looked to Elizabeth for understanding. Lizzy clasped her hand, urging her on.

"I know now that George is not a good man. But I cannot help but feel a little bit happy about the—," she could not speak the word but the hand she placed upon her stomach was all the illustration Lizzy needed. "There must be some reason for all this. For all the wicked things that have happened. _There must_. I have little else left but hope," Georgiana smiled now, a smile that was more of a grimace, the sort best employed for holding back tears.

For a long time Lizzy simply held the poor girl as she cried unabashedly. Finally, Georgiana sat up dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and asked if she looked presentable.

"No, do not say a word. I can see from your face I do not. I will wash my face before I see my cousin—if he wishes to see me."

"I am certain he will."

Just as Georgiana was about to leave she turned back, "Lizzy, does everyone tell you all their secrets as I just have?"

"No, it is usually my sister Jane that everyone confides in. I think you have needed someone to talk to for a long time."

"Yes I have, thank you."

* * *

Mr. Darcy was having a serious discussion of his own. A discussion that was not at all enjoyable, especially when compared to the delights he had wished to pursue with Elizabeth.

"You arrived rather quickly," Darcy observed trying to keep the annoyance from his voice. He was always happy to see his cousin, but he wished he might have waited a few days after the wedding before visiting.

"How could I not come here straight away after the letter you sent? A wedding and an assassination attempt within the same month. And I had thought your life dull."

"What I would not give for a dull life."

"And you are certain it was Wickham who orchestrated all this?"

"Who else? I would like to think there is not a great number of people who wish to kill me."

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, "Depraved he may be, but I cannot think he would do this. Not to mention all the effort it had to have taken to plan such a thing. He has never been one for hard work."

"He displayed his talent for diabolical planning when he seduced my sister."

"But all this just for Pemberley—"

"I have been told it is a charming estate," Darcy said, a smile quirking upon his lips despite the seriousness of their conversation.

"My father was convinced he'd try something, I thought he was just being cynical."

"Wickham is capable of anything when he is desperate."

"The girl he took, you found her?" the colonel asked.

Darcy sighed, "Mary Davis was found, though it is unlikely she will ever be able to make a respectable marriage. The particulars of her disappearance became known amongst her circle."

"Damn," Colonel Fitzwilliam uttered, "And no sign of Wickham?"

"No, he convinced the girl to meet him, but did not have a hand in the kidnapping. A Mr. White held her captive. He will undoubtedly hang for his crimes."

"What power did Wickham have over this man?"

"A gaming debt. Seventy-five pounds."

"Seventy-five pounds—a girl's life ruined for seventy-five pounds." Colonel Fitzwilliam was silent for a moment. Mention of the ruin of one girl brought to mind another whose life would never be the same, "Have you considered what will be done with Georgiana's child?"

"No. I find I cannot think of it at all." Indeed, all he could do was pray that she survived the birthing, anything beyond that could not yet be contemplated.

"My father would like me to suggest an option. I do not think you will find it honorable, but I do think you should hear it," the colonel got up from his seat and moved towards the window. He did not think he could look his cousin in the eye when the spoke the words that would follow.

Darcy sighed, "I have not found much honor in anything your father has had to say of late."

"He thinks it best if it was put about that the child died."

"What are you suggesting?" Darcy asked, his voice sharp.

"_My father_ suggests, that when the child is born it immediately be taken from Pemberley to be fostered by some trusted friends. Not as the offspring of Wickham. Then it could be announced that Georgiana's babe died at birth. Such an announcement might lessen Wickham's desire to see you dead. At the very least it might keep the poor babe safe from Wickham's grasp."

"You are right I do not find such a plan honorable in the least. To take a child away from its mother, to deny it its true identity and birthright, it is unthinkable," Darcy spat vehemently.

"What of its true identity? The child's surname will be Wickham! And what birthright will it have? Georgiana's fortune is spent, all it will have will be granted of your generosity no matter what name it bears—."

"At present, Georgiana stands to inherit Pemberley, the child will be her heir."

"Barring Wickham actually managing to kill you in the very near future, I think it safe to assume that you and the new Mrs. Darcy will have at least one child, who will be the heir to Pemberley. All Georgiana's child stands to inherit is the shame of having such a father."

This argument hushed Darcy. All his cousin had spoken was true. Though he did not like this plan at all.

The colonel used Darcy's silence to continue, "Georgiana is still a child herself. She cannot be ready to be a mother. It is very likely that Wickham will find himself dead, either by the hand of the company he keeps or at the end of the hangman's noose. Once Georgiana is a widow she will be free to remarry. She might yet be able to have the life that was intended for her. Being the mother of Wickham's child will only remind others of her indiscretion, without the, for lack of a better word, burden of the child she may be able to reclaim her place in society in a few years. "

"You agree with your father, then?"

"I do, Darcy."

For a moment Darcy, stared off Colonel Fitzwilliam thought that he might not say anything further on the subject, but then he spoke, "I agree that it would be best for Georgiana if the child were sent elsewhere, but I cannot agree with the deceit."

"The deceit is essential if this plan is to work, surely you see that."

"I will think of something. I _must_ think of something. The child is legitimate. To hide its identity implies that it is not."

"Being thought illegitimate would be far better than to be thought the progeny of Wickham."

"You do not know what you say."

"I do. Think on it Darcy, you will see I am right. We may come back to this debate later. Now we must consider who the child might be sent to."

* * *

Having at long last changed out of her walking dress to more appropriate attire Elizabeth went in search of Mrs. Reynolds. She was halted on the stairs by a weeping Georgiana

Elizabeth caught the girl's shoulder as she fled, "Georgiana, what has upset you?"

"They are going to send my baby away!" she exclaimed, nearly screaming.

"Who is?"

"I overheard my cousin, he thinks they should send my baby away to be raised by someone else."

Elizabeth pulled the frantic girl close, "There is no need for concern, Mr. Darcy will never do such a thing." Lizzy wondered at her certainty. She did not really know the man after all. But he was a man of sense and feeling, that much was clear. He loved his sister and would do nothing to cause her grief.

"My brother agrees! I heard him. He thinks I should not be burdened with a child so young, that I should be allowed to marry again."

"Marry again? But your husband is alive!"

"I do not know. Perhaps not. They do not tell me anything. They make decisions with no care for my feelings," Georgiana fell forward against the railing of the stair, wracked with anguish.

"Do not upset yourself. Think of your condition," Elizabeth pleaded, "I will speak to your brother. Perhaps this has all been a misunderstanding."

She called for a maid and saw her distraught sister in-law put to bed in slightly calmer state. Then she sought out her husband.

She found him in his study, luckily alone.

"Our guest is comfortable with his room, I trust?"

"Yes, he is resting before dinner. I am sorry that our plans were interrupted. Richard and I had some very important matters to discuss."

"Yes, I must speak to you about that."

Darcy looked quizzically at his wife.

"Georgiana is under the impression that you intend to send her child away as soon as it is born."

Darcy looked dumbstruck.

"She overheard you earlier. She was very upset. The cook had to make her a sedative draught. Please tell me this is a misunderstanding?" She did not need to ask, she could see from his face that there was no misunderstanding. _How could he think to do such a thing?_ Had she really been so mistaken in her estimation of his character?

"It is unfortunate that she should hear of it in this manner, but yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are considering sending the child away. To trusted friends. So it may have a safe and happy life unknowing of the scandal that marked its conception. I think it a prudent option."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to stare at her husband, dumbstruck.

"And what of the feelings of Georgiana? Her heart will be broken!"

"Georgiana's heart is already broken!" Darcy growled out, nearly yelling, "This child will only further her pain, keep her from future happiness!"

"Future happiness? Do you mean another marriage? Georgiana mentioned that, but I did not understand what she could mean. She is already married. Mr. Wickham is still alive, is he not?"

"To my knowledge, yes. But he is likely to come to a bad end before long. She could be free of all of this horror. She could be happy."

"She _is _happy. She told me as much earlier today. She is frightened, yes—."

Darcy interrupted, "She is frightened because she is a child about to give birth to a child. She is in no way ready to be a mother."

Elizabeth yelled over his voice, tears falling freely, "She will be a mother regardless of where you send her child. She is frightened. But she is hopeful. You cannot take her hope away."

"She does not know what she wants. We can see from her prior actions that she cannot be trusted to make wise decisions."

Elizabeth did not want to believe that the man standing before her was her husband. He was so imperious, so callous, so unforgiving. "Will you send our children away if they become inconvenient?" _Our children,_ the words reverberated in her mind. She would bear this man's children.

Darcy softened a bit. She did not fully understand the situation and his actions must terrify her without clear knowledge of his character to give them context. "Of course not," he said taking a step towards her, "The circumstances of their union are disgraceful, sending the child away will save both it and Georgiana from further harm."

Elizabeth stepped away from him. She could not accept such an answer, "They are married before God and law same as you and I."

"That is true. But in the eyes of society they are condemned, Elizabeth."

"Are the opinions of society really so important to you?" Elizabeth snarled.

"No, the well-being of my sister is," Darcy replied frostily. He should not be explaining himself to her, this was none of her concern.

Elizabeth feigned laughter, "You are being dishonest with yourself, sir, I think you need to examine your true motives."

Seeing no need to argue further with him, Elizabeth left the room in disgust.


	9. Chapter 9

Since their argument three days prior Elizabeth had not spoken to her husband. Or rather she had not had a conversation with her husband. They would meet, exchange greetings far too formal, and then Mr. Darcy would find some excuse to make his exit. Colonel Fitzwilliam was equally avoidant, though Elizabeth, of course, had very little she wished to say to him.

She filled the time she should have spent with her new husband going over household expenses with Mrs. Reynolds, preparing baskets for her upcoming visit with the tenants, and furthering her acquaintance with Georgiana.

The new sisters took tea together in the afternoon and conversed. Georgiana had been reluctant to open up to Elizabeth after that initial confessional, but Elizabeth, with her easy nature, soon had the girl talking once more.

"I was to have come out, you know, next Season. My Aunt Eleanor, Lady Matlock, had already started making plans for a grand ball," Georgiana said without any hint of the wistfulness that Elizabeth assumed would accompany such a statement. Somehow they had gotten on the topic of might-have-beens, a dangerous subject indeed, but Elizabeth felt it would do Georgie good to face such things.

"Will you regret never having made your debut in society as you might have?"

"No, that is one of the few things I shall not regret. I am not skillful at conversing with strangers. Nor am I the sort of person who enjoys crowds. I had always hoped that I might spend most of my time in the country, now it seems I most certainly shall."

Georgiana continued, "I regret, of course, letting my family down so. Aunt Eleanor was counting on me making a splash in London, and Will had promised Papa that he would make sure I found a good husband. But before I was reunited with George, Mr. Wickham that is, I had thought that I might not marry . . . that I might –." She suddenly halted, too embarrassed say aloud such hopeless dreams.

"That you might what? Please, tell me."

"There are schools—schools of music on the Continent that have begun accepting women—I thought that I might . . .well, it was a rather silly thought what with the war. I never could have traveled there. And of course, I am a Darcy—I was a Darcy, and certain things were expected of me."

"Did you ever speak to your brother about your wish to study music abroad?"

"No. No, I could never have. Will is always so good— so dutiful. He is everything honorable and proper, I felt too ashamed to ask him such a thing, when he has always done everything that was expected of him. I strove to be like him, to do as I ought until . . . until I did not."

Silence hung about them for a moment. Elizabeth felt certain she had just discovered the root of all problems between the siblings.

Georgiana startled Elizabeth out of her thoughts with a question, "Is there anything that you had thought to do? If you had not married Will, that is."

Now that was a question _she_ did not like to face, "No. It was always understood that I would marry."

"Understood?"

"My father is not wealthy. With so many daughters in one family it was necessary that we marry for our own security."

"But did you _wish_ to marry?"

"Yes. I had always thought to have a husband, a house of my own, children." _Though I had thought to marry a man I loved. Not one I had seen but once before we wed. _Elizabeth did not like the regretful nature of her own thoughts.

Changing the subject, she said, "Georgie, you must tell Will your wishes concerning your child's future."

Georgiana immediately shrunk back in fear, "I cannot."

Elizabeth locked eyes with her sister in-law demanding further explanation.

"Perhaps, he is right. I am surely not fit to be a mother."

"That is a decision you must come to on your own. I will not judge you if you choose to heed your brother's wishes, but let it be for your own reasons, not merely to please him."

"I never had a mother, not really. I have no idea how to be one. Yet I cannot help but fear that the baby will feel abandoned. As I did. It was not my mother's fault, she did not wish to leave me, and Papa, he and I were never close, he never was the same after Mother's death, or at least that is what Will tells me. And I still feel abandoned. What would a child feel if its mother really did have a choice?"

"I cannot know. In certain circumstances, perhaps in this circumstance, a child's welfare is best tended to by another, a person who is ready— who feels capable."

"Then you agree with my brother that I am not capable?"

"I do not know. Only you can know this. But I do know if you cannot take inventory, of not just your emotions, but an honest assessment of your own abilities, and express your findings to your brother you can never hope to be an independent person."

Georgiana nodded sadly. She had known nothing in her life but dependence.

"Think on this," Elizabeth pleaded.

* * *

Lizzy believed she had succeeded in pressing upon Georgiana the importance of communicating her desires to her brother. Now she was left only to convince Mr. Darcy to hear his sister out. Unfortunately, he proved a difficult man to get alone. If he was not in the company of his steward he was with his cousin. Elizabeth choose to go down to dinner, instead of eating in her rooms with Georgiana as she had been, in the hope that she might find Mr. Darcy alone. Colonel Fitzwilliam was there, however, leaving Elizabeth grasping for safe topics of conversation.

The colonel was having no such trouble, "Mrs. Darcy, I am pleased to see you are well."

Elizabeth merely inclined her head.

The room fell into silence once more.

"You must give my compliments to your cook. This is a delightful meal."

Yet again no reply from either of the Darcys.

"Dreadful weather we've been having," the Colonel announced with derisive joviality.

This still did not solicit a comment.

Emboldened by their silence, Colonel Fitzwilliam got to the heart of it, "Georgiana, I see, has chosen not to join us. Understandable. She will very soon reach her confinement will she not? There are decisions that have to be made, Darcy."

"For goodness sake, do not speak of this here," Darcy scolded, eyes darting to his wife then back to his cousin with a reproachful glare.

"When then? It is clear enough that Mrs. Darcy is well aware of our plans and clear enough she does not agree with them. We might has well have this talk here rather than speak nonsense."

"What you speak will be nonsense if that is to be your topic," Elizabeth interjected.

"Respectfully, Mrs. Darcy, you do not understand the situation," the Colonel spoke with finality, clearly unused to being questioned, at least by a woman.

Elizabeth looked to her husband. Would he let his cousin censor her? Mr. Darcy would not even meet her eyes. No, she would find no support there. "I believe I do."

"Elizabeth, it is not your concern."

_Oh_, thought Elizabeth_, so now my dear Mr. Darcy finds his voice._

"It most certainly is my concern. She is my sister now and I will not have you making decisions of this magnitude about her future without any input from Georgiana herself."

The Colonel scoffed, "You cannot really think that girl capable of handling this."

"It does not matter what I think. I am not to be the final judge of this nor are you. She may come to see it as you do or she may not, but it should be her choice not something you force upon her."

"Georgiana is a spoiled child, a fault for which Darcy and I must share in the blame. Where we have failed her in that regard, we will not do so in this."

"You are failing her if you give her no chance to express her opinion on such an important matter."

"After all Darcy has given up I think he has earned the right to make this decision. Georgiana certainly had no consideration for his opinions when she did what she did."

Elizabeth thought she might strangle Colonel Fitzwilliam if there were not a table between them.

"Yes, seeing all he has given up makes me wonder that he is so willing to send away an innocent child, _his own_ _blood_, as if it were some shame that might be hidden away and forgotten."

Darcy mentally railed against this abuse. She did not fully comprehend his actions, she could not know what danger Wickham might be to the child if he heard of its existence. Yet, it was more than Wickham that he feared. It was those unspeakable fears, those that not even his cousin was aware of that had been keeping him awake of late.

It was well known that the late Mrs. Darcy never fully recovered from the birth of her second child. While it was true that the physical aspects of childbirth had left her weak, it was the mental anguish that followed that had truly ended her life. It was one of several dark family secrets, an event his father pretended never occurred, though Darcy remembered it well. The melancholy, the strange behaviors that had preceded his mother's death. Could he prevent Georgiana from sharing the fate that befell their mother by separating his sister from her child, or would such action only result in greater agony?

"Tell me. What would you have me do?" Darcy challenged, trying his best to keep his tone even, he had no wish to be drawn into another argument.

"Listen to your sister. Truly listen, that is all I ask. You have been telling that girl what she wants her whole life. She told me she did not even want a come out, did not wish for a husband."

"It is clear then that she is fickle," Colonel Fitzwilliam quipped as he sampled his soup seemingly unaware that he was the only one attending to the meal.

Elizabeth turned upon him a look so fierce he nearly swallowed his spoon.

"If she will present her thoughts to me and demonstrate that she fully comprehends the realities of her desires, I will hear her and give her opinion honest consideration."

"Thank you, Will."

* * *

She could see that he was yet awake, candle light shone from under the door. Elizabeth knocked tentatively. His footsteps sounded across the floor, she held her breath until the door gave way before her.

"Elizabeth? Is something the matter?" He seemed shocked to find her there. His body tensed as if only some grand horror would cause her to seek him out. Indeed, she was surprised that she would seek his company herself. But, of course, he was all she had.

"No—well yes, there is, of course. Though not some dragon for you to slay. I only wish . . . ."

"Yes?"

"I have been troubled of late . . . by Georgiana's situation."

"I do not want to argue further on this topic."

"Nor I. Though I will at a later time if it proves necessary," this might have been a warning, but it was said with a smile. Darcy was glad to see that teasing smile again.

"What use may I be to you?"

_Oh, how to put it in words_ . . .she ought to have thought of that before she knocked. "It has been—I have been—lonely these past few days. I have had your sister to speak to of course, but she has her troubles . . . .That is not to say that you do not. But now that we have come to some sort of truce . . .I thought that we might . . .find some comfort in each other." _I want you to hold me_. Why could she not find those words?

Even though she could not speak her needs, Darcy understood, for they were his own. Pulling her towards him he placed his arms around her and held her closely. She lay her head against his chest. She thought that it might feel strange, to find comfort in someone she did not know well, who she had argued with so fiercely but days before, yet it did not.

He began to lightly stroke her hair, just as Jane had when they were children, she was almost brought to tears by the memory of it.

Hearing her gasp as she fought to keep her composure. Darcy pulled her away to observe her face.

Lizzy smiled at his concern, "No tears. It is only exhaustion. I am sick with worry for Georgiana. As I am certain you are. And I am sick of being angry with you."

"It is good to know that you do not relish our discord."

"No. You will find I am too willful. But I do not like to disagree with you. You are the only ally I have now, as unknown to me as you are. A wife should always be on the side of her husband, but I felt that saying something on the part of your sister was in your best interests as well."

Mr. Darcy nodded, choosing to remain silent. Elizabeth understood that he could not see the issue as she did, but she would not have him think her intentions malicious.

"I have a terrible feeling that some greater difficulties may soon arise," Elizabeth paused, observing her husband. It had occurred to her some time ago that there was more to Georgiana's situation, she hoped that Mr. Darcy would share his burdens.

She continued cautiously, "Mr. Wickham— he is more dangerous than Georgiana or I know is he not?"

Mr. Darcy expression darkened, "I do not wish to speak of this now." He knew he ought to tell her at least something of the danger that man posed. For all he knew, Wickham might intend harm to her as well. But he could not put voice to any of his fears.

Elizabeth was disappointed that he did not speak his concerns, but understood that it was not in his nature to do so. "Yes, you must be tired. I shall leave you."

His grip on her waist tensed slightly, "You might stay if you wished."

"I will stay, then."

* * *

"Stay with me," Georgiana pleaded as she and Elizabeth stood outside of Mr. Darcy's study.

Elizabeth sighed, she thought they had reached an understanding, "This you must do alone."

Elizabeth knocked on the door, then took her leave praying that Georgiana would find her strength.

Darcy had been expecting his sister, though he was surprised to see her enter alone.

"What have you to say, Georgiana?"

"I wish to keep my child," her tone was clear, but she was visibly trembling.

"You do not comprehend the responsibility— the burden you take on, Darcy replied. He had promised Elizabeth that he would not dismiss Georgiana's argument without hearing the particulars, but that was proving difficult.

"Please, hear me. I know of responsibility. I have seen the responsibility you take on. And I know of burdens, the guilt and shame I carry is a burden. Please, do not use that word to describe my child."

Georgiana continued, her courage rising with each word, "I will keep it. I know that I am not the ideal mother. But I will endeavor to be better. I will do my absolute best. I cannot send the baby away to strangers—"

Darcy opened his mouth to argue, but Georgiana continued quickly.

"I know you would choose the best of people— I know that, Brother. But how can I know that as kind as they are they will not look on my child as the product of some sin? At best to be seen as an object of pity. You know that it is true. That is how people see orphans. People will judge it for its parents' wrongdoings. I judge myself, I blame myself, but I do not blame the child."

He could hear his sister's passion, but it was only raw emotion that fueled her speech. She still did not understand reality, "There is still the problem of George Wickham that needs to be addressed. He will have rights to the child."

"Say we both died."

"Georgiana, what are you—?"

"Say that I died in childbirth and the babe along with me— send us both away," she pleaded.

He did not like to hear those words from her lips again, as though they were some curse that might indeed befall her if she spoke them too many times.

"I have done all of this to keep from sending you away. I would not leave you to the wolves now."

"And I am grateful. But I never asked you to, I begged you to do as Aunt Catherine told you. To throw me off because I feared that this would happen, that I would harm you further."

Darcy was still searching for words. Did he think this plan plausible? No, not particularly. But she presented herself so earnestly.

"I will still need to depend on your generosity, at least for now. I would need to be set up. In a cottage perhaps, somewhere no one has ever heard of me, there I might be presented as a widow."

Mr. Darcy was still silent.

"I can live a simple life. You must believe me."

Her brother appeared greatly disturbed. Georgiana hated to think that her request had caused him anguish. She had hoped to simplify the situation.

At last he spoke, "I will think on it."


End file.
